PR 

6013 

H98S64 


THE  LIBRARY 


THE  UNIVERSITY 


OF  CALIFORNIA 


LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 


Prof.   Carl  S.  Dowries 


•\r- 

I 


SELECTIONS     FROM 
HUXLEY 


EDITED   BY 


C.   ALPHONSO    SMITH 

EDGAR  ALLAN   FOE  PROFESSOR  OF  ENGLISH   IN  THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  VIRGINIA 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY   HOLT   AND   COMPANY 
1912 


COPYRIGHT,  1912, 

BY 
HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 


THE   QUINN   4   800EN    CO.  PRESS 
RAMWAY,    N.  J. 


fR 


CONTENTS 

INTRODUCTION  PAGE 

I.  Huxley's  Life  and  Work vii 

II.  The  Selections xix 

DESCRIPTIVE  BIBLIOGRAPHY xxv 

SELECTIONS 

Autobiography                             ; 3 

Letters 16 

On  the  Advisableness  of  Improving  Natural  Knowledge  28 
A  Liberal  Education:  and  where  to  find  it  .       .       .       -47 

On  a  Piece  of  Chalk 74 

y  Science  and  Art  in  Relation  to  Education  ....  103 

NOTES  AND  COMMENT 127 

QUESTIONS  AND  TOPICS  FOR  STUDY 146 

Portrait  of  Huxley Frontispiece 


1734619 


IN  a  letter  written  to  his  sister  in  1850  Huxley  said :  "  I 
don't  know  and  I  don't  care  whether  I  shall  ever  be  what 
is  called  a  great  man.  I  shall  leave  my  mark  somewhere, 
and  it  shall  be  clear  and  distinct — 

T.  H.  H.— his  mark. 

and  free  from  the  abominable  blur  of  cant,  humbug,  and 
self-seeking  which  surrounds  everything  in  this  present 
world — that  is  to  say,  supposing  that  I  am  not  already  un- 
consciously tainted  myself,  a  result  of  which  I  have  a  mor- 
bid dread."  We  shall  not  debate  the  question  whether 
Huxley  was  "  what  is  called  a  great  man,"  but  no  one  fa- 
miliar with  his  life  and  work  can  doubt  for  a  moment  that 
he  has  left  his  mark  or  that  it  is  "  clear  and  distinct."  He 
had  the  good  fortune  to  find  his  work  early — a  rare  piece 
of  good  fortune — and  never  to  doubt  that  he  had  found  it. 
For  just  fifty  years,  from  1845  to  1895,  he  wrought  hap- 
pily and  usefully.  When  he  died  he  had  the  satisfaction  of 
knowing  that  his  fame  was  secure  and  that  he  had  added  to 
the  knowledge  and  welfare  of  his  fellow-men. 

Thomas  Henry  Huxley  was  born  of  good  but  poor 
parents  at  Ealing,  a  village  not  far  from  London,  on  May 
4,  1825.  He  told  Charles  Kingsley  that  he  was  "kicked 
into  the  world  a  boy  without  guide  or  training,  or  with 
worse  than  none."  He  tells  us  in  his  Autobiography  of 

vii 


viii  Introduction 

the  wretched  little  school  that  he  attended,  and  in  after 
years  used  to  say  that  "  he  had  two  years  of  a  Pandemo- 
nium of  a  school  (between  eight  and  ten)  and  after  that 
neither  help  nor  sympathy  in  any  intellectual  direction  till 
he  reached  manhood." 

He  was  always  fond  of  reading  and  used  to  browse  at 
random  in  his  father's  library.  "  When  a  boy  of  twelve," 
his  son  and  biographer  writes,  "  he  used  to  light  his  candle 
before  dawn,  pin  a  blanket  around  his  shoulders,  and  sit 
up  in  bed  to  read  Hutton's  Geology."  His  tastes  were 
scientific  but  he  did  not  confine  his  reading  to  science.  He 
was  still  a  child  when  he  read  Sir  William  Hamilton's 
Philosophy  of  the  Unconditioned,  but  his  comment  on  it  is 
not  that  of  a  child:  "It  stamped  on  my  mind  the  strong 
conviction  that  on  even  the  most  solemn  and  important 
of  questions,  men  are  apt  to  take  cunning  phrases  for  an- 
swers." 

But  Carlyle  had  the  most  lasting  influence  upon  him 
during  these  formative  years.  It  was  interest  in  Carlyle 
that  led  him  to  study  German,  just  as  at  the  age  of  fifty- 
three  he  learned  Greek  so  that  he  might  read  Aristotle  in 
the  original.  During  these  years  he  also  taught  himself 
French  and  Italian.  Of  Carlyle's  Sartor  Resartus  he 
wrote :  "  It  led  me  to  know  that  a  deep  sense  of  religion 
was  compatible  with  the  entire  absence  of  theology." 
Carlyle  taught  him  also  a  hatred  of  shams  and  a  love  of 
uncompromising  truthfulness  that  remained  a  passion  with 
him  as  long  as  he  lived.  "  If  wife  and  child,"  he  said, 
"  and  name  and  fame  were  all  lost  to  me,  one  after  an- 
other, still  I  would  not  lie.  .  .  .  The  longer  I  live,  the 
more  obvious  it  is  to  me  that  the  most  sacred  act  of  a 
man's  life  is  to  say  and  to  feel,  '  I  believe  such  and  such  to 
be  true.'  All  the  greatest  rewards  and  all  the  heaviest 
penalties  of  existence  cling  about  that  act." 


Huxley's  Life  and  Work  ix 

After  serving  as  assistant  under  one  or  two  physicians 
he  received  an  appointment  in  1842  to  one  of  the  free 
scholarships  at  the  Charing  Cross  Hospital  in  London.  He 
was  now  seventeen  years  old  and  his  application  for  ad- 
mission to  Charing  Cross  certified  that  "  He  has  a  fair 
knowledge  of  Latin,  reads  French  with  facility,  and  knows 
something  of  German.  He  has  also  made  consider- 
able progress  in  mathematics,  having,  as  far  as  he  has  ad- 
vanced, a  thorough  not  a  superficial  knowledge  of  the 
subject."  In  1845  he  won  his  M.B.  (Bachelor  of  Medi- 
cine) at  the  University  of  London  and  also  a  gold  medal 
for  proficiency  in  anatomy  and  physiology.  He  tells  us 
also  that  in  this  year  he  published  his  first  scientific  paper, 
"a  very  little  one,"  in  the  Medical  Gazette',  but  he  does 
not  tell  us  that  this  paper  announced  a  permanent  contribu- 
tion to  anatomy.  The  youthful  investigator  had  found  a 
hitherto  undiscovered  membrane  in  the  root  of  the  human 
hair  and  this  membrane  is  now  known  as  "  Huxley's  layer." 

In  December  of  1846  Huxley  left  England  as  assistant 
surgeon  on  board  her  Majesty's  ship,  the  Rattlesnake. 
The  cruise  lasted  four  years,  three  being  spent  in  Aus- 
tralian waters.  It  was  on  a  voyage  of  this  sort  that 
Charles  Darwin  and  Joseph  Dalton  Hooker  had  laid  the 
foundations  of  their  scientific  careers.  Indeed  we  can 
hardly  imagine  a  better  scientific  training  than  such  a 
voyage  afforded.  The  young  scientist  had  to  depend 
largely  on  his  own  resources.  He  had  to  collect  and  dis- 
sect without  the  aid  of  many  books.  He  was  confronted 
daily  by  forms  of  marine  life  either  unknown  or  at  least 
unclassified.  But  it  was  just  the  discipline  that  Huxley 
needed  and  wanted.  When  he  returned  in  1850,  Edward 
Forbes,  the  best  English  authority  on  star-fishes,  examined 
his  collection  and  wrote  to  him,  saying:  "I  can  say  with- 
out exaggeration  that  more  important  or  more  complete 


x  Introduction 

zoological  researches  have  never  been  conducted  during 
any  voyage  of  discovery  in  the  southern  hemisphere.  The 
course  you  have  taken  of  directing  your  attention  mainly 
to  impreservable  creatures,  and  to  those  orders  of  the 
animal  kingdom  respecting  which  we  have  least  informa- 
tion, and  the  care  and  skill  with  which  you  have  conducted 
elaborate  dissections  and  microscopic  examinations  of  the 
curious  creatures  you  were  so  fortunate  as  to  meet  with, 
necessarily  gives  a  peculiar  and  unique  character  to  your 
researches,  since  thereby  they  fill  up  gaps  in  our  knowledge 
of  the  animal  kingdom.  This  is  more  important,  since 
such  researches  have  been  almost  always  neglected  during 
voyages  of  discovery." 

But  Huxley's  cruise  in  Australian  waters  had  another 
result.  Three  weeks  after  his  return  to  England,  he 
wrote  to  his  sister,  Mrs.  J.  G.  Scott,  who  was  then  living 
in  Nashville,  Tennessee:  "  I  have  a  woman's  element  in  me. 
I  hate  the  incessant  struggle  and  toil  to  cut  one  an- 
other's throat  among  us  men,  and  I  long  to  be  able  to  meet 
with  some  one  in  whom  I  can  place  implicit  confidence, 
whose  judgment  I  can  respect,  and  yet  who  will  not  laugh 
at  my  most  foolish  weaknesses,  and  in  whose  love  I  can 
forget  all  care.  All  these  conditions  I  have  fulfilled  in 
Nettie.  With  a  strong  natural  intelligence,  and  knowl- 
edge enough  to  understand  and  sympathize  with  my  aims, 
with  the  firmness  of  a  man  when  necessary,  she  combines 
the  gentleness  of  a  very  woman  and  the  honest  simplicity 
of  a  child,  and  then  she  loves  me  well,  as  well  as  I  love 
her,  and  you  know  I  love  but  few — in  the  real  meaning  of 
the  word,  perhaps,  but  two — she  and  you  .  .  .  The 
worst  of  it  is  I  have  no  ambition,  except  as  means  to  an 
end,  and  that  end  is  the  possession  of  a  sufficient  income 
to  marry  upon.  I  assure  you  I  would  not  give  two  straws 
for  all  the  honors  and  titles  in  the  world.  A  worker  I 


Huxley's  Life  and  Work  xi 

must  always  be — it  is  my  nature — but  if  I  had  £400  a 
year  I  would  never  let  my  name  appear  to  anything  I  did 
or  shall  ever  do.  It  would  be  glorious  to  be  a  voice  work- 
ing in  secret  and  free  from  all  those  personal  motives 
that  have  actuated  the  best." 

The  woman  thus  charmingly  referred  to  was  Miss 
Henrietta  Anne  Heathorn,  whom  he  had  met  in  Australia 
in  1848.  But  not  till  1855  could  he  write:  "I  terminate 
my  Baccalaureate  and  take  my  degree  of  M.A.  trimony 
(isn't  that  atrocious?)  on  Saturday,  July  21."  He  had 
served  as  long  for  her  as  Jacob  thought  to  serve  for 
Rachel,  but  during  their  forty  years  of  married  life  he 
found  in  her  his  best  comforter  and  wisest  counselor. 
What  he  said  of  her  in  1848  he  could  say  with  added 
assurance  in  1895:  "I  never  met  with  so  sweet  a  temper, 
so  self-sacrificing  and  affectionate  a  disposition,  or  so  pure 
and  womanly  a  mind."  Twelve  years  after  his  marriage 
he  was  visited  by  a  German,  Dr.  Dohrn,  who  wrote: 
"  I  have  been  reading  several  chapters  of  Mill's  Utili- 
tarianism and  have  found  the  word  '  happiness '  occurring 
very  often.  If  /  had  to  give  anybody  a  definition  of  this 
much  debated  word,  I  should  only  say,  'Go  and  see  the 
Huxley  family.' " 

His  life  was  very  busy  now,  but  he  found  time  in  the 
summer  of  1876  to  visit  America  and  to  deliver  the  in- 
augural address  at  the  opening  of  the  Johns  Hopkins  Uni- 
versity in  Baltimore.  He  received  an  enthusiastic  wel- 
come, and  the  letters  that  he  sent  from  America  are 
among  the  most  interesting  that  he  ever  wrote.  The 
little  tug-boats  in  the  harbor  of  New  York  seemed  espe- 
cially to  interest  him.  "  If  I  were  not  a  man,"  he  said, 
"  I  think  I  should  like  to  be  a  tug."  On  the  material 
greatness  of  America  he  remarked :  "  I  cannot  say  that  I 
am  in  the  slightest  degree  impressed  by  your  bigness  or 


xii  Introduction 

your  material  resources,  as  such.  Size  is  not  grandeur; 
territory  does  not  make  a  nation.  The  great  issue,  about 
which  hangs  a  true  sublimity  and  the  terror  of  overhang- 
ing fate,  is,  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  all  these 
things?  The  one  condition  of  success,  your  sole  safe- 
guard, is  the  moral  worth  and  intellectual  clearness  of  the 
individual  citizen.  Education  cannot  give  these,  but  it 
can  cherish  them  and  bring  them  to  the  front  in  whatever 
station  of  society  they  are  to  be  found,  and  the  universities 
ought  to  be  and  may  be  the  fortresses  of  the  higher  life  of 
the  nation." 

Huxley  was  never  very  strong.  In  1888  he  wrote  to  a 
friend :  "  Dame  Nature  has  given  me  a  broad  hint  that  I 
have  had  my  innings,  and,  for  the  rest  of  my  time,  must 
be  content  to  look  on  at  the  players."  The  essays  alone, 
however,  that  he  wrote  after  1888  would  have  given  him 
a  place  among  the  intellectual  leaders  of  the  century. 
Three  days  before  his  death  he  writes  as  jauntily  as  ever: 
"  At  present  I  don't  feel  at  all  like  '  sending  in  my 
checks,'  and  without  being  over  sanguine  I  rather  incline 
to  think  that  my  native  toughness  will  get  the  best  of  it." 
The  end  came  quietly  on  June  29,  1895.  At  his  request 
these  lines,  written  by  Mrs.  Huxley,  were  inscribed  upon 
his  tombstone: 

"Be  not  afraid,  ye  waiting  hearts  that  weep; 
For  still  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep, 
And  if  an  endless  sleep  He  wills,  so  best." 

Of  Huxley's  busy  career  the  Autobiography  gives  us 
only  glimpses  here  and  there.  We  learn  from  it,  however, 
that  his  chief  interests  lay  in  "  the  working  out  of  the 
wonderful  unity  of  plan  in  the  thousands  and  thousands 
of  diverse  living  constructions  "  of  nature,  and  in  promot- 
ing "  the  application  of  scientific  methods  of  investigation 


Huxley's  Life  and  Work  xiii 

to  all  the  problems  of  Kfe."  In  other  words,  Huxley 
spent  his  life  in  forwarding  science  and  education.  He 
was  not  only  a  naturalist  but  a  sociologist.  Was  he 
greater,  now,  in  discovery  or  in  application?  He  was 
great  in  both  but  greater,  we  think,  in  the  latter.  Let 
us  see. 

As  a  scientific  discoverer,  Huxley  can  never  rank  with 
Newton  or  Darwin.  But  if  these  are  immortals  of  the 
first  rank,  Huxley  is  as  certainly  an  immortal  of  the  second 
rank.  It  is  interesting  to  see  how  eager  Darwin  was 
to  know  how  The  Origin  of  Species,  Darwin's  greatest 
work,  would  impress  Huxley.  Darwin  called  Huxley  his 
"  general  agent,"  and  Huxley  called  himself  "  Darwin's 
bulldog."  The  Origin  of  Species  appeared  in  1859  and 
Darwin  wrote:  "  If  I  can  convert  Huxley  I  shall  be  con- 
tent." With  one  or  two  reservations,  Huxley  was  con- 
verted and  championed  the  book  the  rest  of  his  life.  But 
this  association  with  Darwin  and  with  Darwin's  work  has 
caused  most  readers  to  overlook  Huxley's  own  contribu- 
tions to  science.  These  may  be  summarized  in  untechnical 
language  under  five  heads. 

We  have  already  seen  that  at  the  age  of  twenty  Huxley 
discovered  an  unknown  layer  in  the  human  hair  now 
known  by  his  name.  More  important,  however,  than 
"Huxley's  layer"  was  his  paper  published  in  1849  on 
The  Anatomy  and  the  Affinities  of  the  Family  of  the 
Medusa.  The  medusae  are  jelly-fishes  and  their  classifica- 
tion had  been  in  a  state  of  chaos  till  Huxley  succeeded  in 
finding  "  unity  of  plan  "  not  only  in  them  but  in  the  entire 
family  to  which  they  belong.  He  discovered  that  all 
medusae  are  built  up  of  two  cell-layers,  two  "  foundation- 
membranes,"  inclosing  a  stomach  cavity.  He  did  not 
know  then  how  his  discovery  would  help  to  prepare  the 
way  for  Darwin's  work.  Scientists,  however,  knew  al- 


xiv  Introduction 

ready  that  all  backboned  animals  passed  through  certain 
regular  and  definite  stages  in  their  progress  from  the 
embryo  to  the  adult  state,  but  Huxley  showed  that  all 
backboned  animals  passed  through  the  medusa:;  stage,  that 
is,  they  also  exhibited  two  corresponding  "  foundation- 
membranes."  He  had  thus  laid  a  foundation  on  which 
other  scientists  were  soon  to  build. 

Another  original  view  appeared  in  The  Cell  Theory 
(1853).  Before  this  time  scientists  had  believed,  as  many 
still  believe,  the  cell  to  be  the  ultimate  life-unit.  In 
other  words,  the  cell  was  life  reduced  to  its  lowest  terms. 
It  was  the  smallest  particle  of  life  just  as  the  atom  is  con- 
sidered the  smallest  particle  of  matter.  Huxley  contended 
that  the  real  life-element  was  not  the  cell  but  protoplasm, 
that  protoplasm  was  the  raw  stuff  that  built  up  the  cell 
just  as  the  cell  built  up  the  body.  He  compared  proto- 
plasm to  the  sea,  cells  to  the  numberless  shells  and  weeds 
that  the  sea  tosses  up.  While  this  theory  has  not  been 
universally  accepted  it  has  not  been  conclusively  over- 
thrown. 

But  perhaps  Huxley's  best  claim  to  popular  recognition 
as  a  scientist  is  that  he  discovered,  or  at  least  was  the  first 
to  announce,  the  pedigree  of  the  horse.  In  1870  he  said 
that  if  there  were  strong  reasons  to  believe  that  our  mod- 
ern one-toed  horse  had  a  remote  ancestor  with  three  toes, 
there  were  still  stronger  reasons  to  believe  that  he  had 
a  still  more  remote  ancestor  with  five  toes.  When  Hux- 
ley visited  America  in  1876,  Professor  O.  C.  Marsh  of 
Yale  University  showed  him  the  fossil  of  a  horse  with 
four  complete  toes  on  the  front  leg  and  three  on  the  hind 
leg.  Huxley  now  re-affirmed  his  theory  of  a  five-toed 
horse,  "  in  which,  if  the  doctrine  of  evolution  is  well- 
founded,  the  whole  series  must  have  taken  its  origin." 
Two  months  later  Professor  Marsh  actually  discovered  the 


Huxley's  Life  and  Work  xv 

fossil  of  an  American  horse  with  five  toes.  The  honor  of 
the  find  belongs,  therefore,  by  discovery  to  Professor 
Marsh,  and  only  by  prophecy  to  Huxley. 

One  other  contribution  to  anatomy  may  be  said  to  close 
Huxley's  achievements  as  a  discoverer.  It  was  a  generally 
accepted  belief  that  the  skull  was  merely  the  expanded 
backbone.  A  German  naturalist,  named  Oken,  while 
walking  in  the  Harz  Mountains,  had  picked  up  the  dried 
skull  of  a  sheep,  and  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  that  this 
skull  was  nothing  but  a  series  of  expanded  vertebrae 
molded  together.  Oken's  view  was  accepted  in  England 
till  Huxley  overthrew  it.  He  examined  the  skulls  of 
fishes,  beasts,  and  men,  and  found  that  Oken's  theory 
was  not  borne  out  by  the  facts.  "  It  may  be  true,"  he 
said,  "  that  there  is  a  primitive  identity  of  structure  be- 
tween the  spinal  or  vertebral  column  and  the  skull,  but  it 
is  no  more  true  that  the  adult  skull  is  a  modified  vertebral 
column  than  it  would  be  to  affirm  that  the  vertebral 
column  is  a  modified  skull." 

Let  us  turn  now  to  Huxley's  services  in  the  cause  of 
education.  If  Darwin  outranks  him  as  a  scientist,  he 
outranks  Darwin  just  as  incontestably  as  an  educator. 
His  interests  were  more  varied  than  Darwin's,  his  per- 
ceptions quicker,  his  personality  more  vigorous,  his  human 
sympathies  broader,  and  his  command  of  the  resources 
of  the  English  language  far  superior.  If  Huxley  had  done 
nothing  more  than  contribute  to  modern  thought  the 
definition  of  a  liberal  education  found  on  pages  54  and  55 
of  this  book,  he  would  be  remembered  at  least  to  the  ex- 
tent of  that  stimulating  paragraph.  But  he  did  far  more. 
He  talked  and  wrote  and  worked  unceasingly  to  make  his 
educational  ideals  prevail.  These  ideals  are  scattered 
through  his  essays  and  lectures  and  letters,  but  the  funda- 
mentals may  be  easily  summarized. 


xvi  Introduction 

The  function  of  education  as  a  national  concern  should 
be,  he  contended,  to  provide  "  a  ladder  reaching  from  the 
gutter  to  the  university,  along  which  every  child  in  the 
three  kingdoms  should  have  the  chance  of  climbing  as  far 
as  he  was  fit  to  go."  All  children,  but  especially  town- 
bred  children,  should  be  taught  the  simpler  forms  of 
gymnastics.  After  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic,  the 
emphasis  should  be  put  upon  one  or  more  of  the  natural 
sciences,  because  in  these  the  faculties  of  observation  and 
inquiry  are  disciplined.  The  value  of  drawing,  he  thought, 
could  not  be  exaggerated,  "  because  it  gives  the  means  of 
training  the  young  in  attention  and  accuracy,  the  two 
things  in  which  all  mankind  are  more  deficient  than  in  any 
other  mental  quality  whatever." 

Women  are  not  excluded  from  his  scheme  of  education 
but  expressly  included.  "The  mind  of  the  average  girl," 
he  wrote,  "  is  less  different  from  that  of  the  average  boy, 
than"*the  mind  of  one  boy  is  from  that  of  another;  so  that 
whatever  argument  justifies  a  given  education  for  all  boys, 
justifies  its  application  to  girls  as  well.  So  far  from  im- 
posing artificial  restriction  upon  the  acquirement  of  knowl- 
edge by  women,  throw  every  facility  in  their  way.  .  .  . 
They  will  be  none  the  less  sweet  for  a  little  wisdom;  and 
the  golden  hair  will  not  curl  less  gracefully  outside  the 
head  by  reason  of  there  being  brains  within.  .  .  .  Let 
them,  if  they  so  please,  become  merchants,  barristers, 
politicians.  Let  them  have  a  fair  field,  but  let  them 
understand  as  the  necessary  correlative,  that  they  are  to 
have  no  favor.  .  .  .  And  the  result?  Women  will 
find  their  place  and  it  will  neither  be  that  in  which  they 
have  been  held,  nor  that  to  which  some  of  them  aspire." 

Literature  should  have  an  important  place  because  "  an 
exclusively-scientific  training  will  bring  about  a  mental 
twist  as  surely  as  an  exclusively  literary  training.  For 


Huxley's  Life  and  Work  xvii 

literature  is  the  greatest  of  all  sources  of  refined  pleasure, 
and  there  is  scope  enough  for  the  purposes  of  liberal  educa- 
tion in  the  study  of  the  rich  treasures  of  our  own  lan- 
guage alone.  ...  I  have  said  before,  and  I  repeat  it 
here,  that  if  a  man  cannot  get  literary  culture  of  the  high- 
est kind  out  of  his  Bible,  and  Chaucer,  and  Shakespeare, 
he  cannot  get  it  out  of  anything,  and  I  would  assuredly 
devote  a  very  large  portion  of  the  time  of  every  English 
child  to  the  careful  study  of  models  of  English  writing 
of  such  varied  and  wonderful  kind  as  we  possess,  and, 
what  is  still  more  important,  and  still  more  neglected, 
the  habit  of  using  that  language  with  precision,  with 
force,  and  with  art." 

Moral  training  should  not  be  neglected.  Since  each 
child  is  "  a  member  of  a  social  and  political  organization 
of  great  complexity,  and  has,  in  future,  to  fit  himself 
into  that  organization,  or  be  crushed  by  it,  it  is  needful 
not  only  that  boys  and  girls  should  be  made  acquainted 
with  the  elementary  laws  of  conduct,  but  that  their 
affections  should  be  trained  so  as  to  love  with  all  their 
hearts  that  conduct  which  tends  to  the  attainment  of  the 
highest  good  for  themselves  and  their  fellow-men,  and  to 
hate  with  all  their  hearts  that  opposite  course  of  action 
which  is  fraught  with  evil."  As  his  own  children  were 
taught  the  Bible,  he  advocated  its  use  in  all  elementary 
schools.  He  saw  no  way  in  which  "  the  religious  feeling, 
which  is  the  essential  basis  of  conduct,  was  to  be  kept  up, 
in  the  present  utterly  chaotic  state  of  opinion,  without  the 
use  of  the  Bible." 

Then  follows  this  eloquent  passage:  "  Consider  the  great 
historical  fact  that,  for  three  centuries,  this  book  has  been 
woven  into  the  life  of  all  that  is  best  and  noblest  in  Eng- 
lish history;  that  it  has  become  the  national  epic  of  Britain, 
and  is  as  familiar  to  noble  and  simple,  from  John-o'- 


xviii  Introduction 

Groat's  House  to  Land's  End,  as  Dante  and  Tasso  once 
were  to  the  Italians;  that  it  is  written  in  the  noblest  and 
purest  English,  and  abounds  in  exquisite  beauties  of  mere 
literary  form;  and,  finally,  that  it  forbids  the  veriest 
hind  who  never  left  his  village  to  be  ignorant  of  the  exist- 
ence of  other  countries  and  other  civilizations,  and  of  a 
great  past,  stretching  back  to  the  furthest  limits  of  the  old- 
est nations  in  the  world.  By  the  study  of  what  other  book 
could  children  be  so  much  humanized  and  made  to  feel 
that  each  figure  in  that  vast  historical  procession  fills,  like 
themselves,  but  a  momentary  space  in  the  interval  between 
two  eternities;  and  earns  the  blessings  or  the  curses  of  all 
time,  according  to  its  effort  to  do  good  and  hate  evil, 
even  as  they  also  are  earning  their  payment  for  their 
work?" 

Huxley's  success  as  an  educational  leader  was  due  not 
to  natural  gifts  as  a  speaker  or  writer  but  to  depth  of  con- 
viction, to  steady  growth,  and  to  persistent  self-improve- 
ment. "  I  have  a  great  love  and  respect  for  my  native 
tongue,"  he  wrote  in  1891,  "and  take  great  pains  to  use 
it  properly.  Sometimes  I  write  essays  half-a-dozen 
times  before  I  can  get  them  into  the  proper  shape; 
and  I  believe  I  become  more  fastidious  as  I  grow  older." 
His  creed  was:  "Say  that  which  has  to  be  said  in  such 
language  that  you  can  stand  cross-examination  on  each 
word." 

His  best  writing  is  in  his  letters,  where  his  humor,  his 
abounding  vigor,  his  nimble  fancy,  his  quick  feeling  for 
analogy,  his  wide  command  of  illustration,  his  passion  for 
directness  find  their  amplest  exhibition.  He  brought  into 
his  writings  the  same  "  unity  of  plan  "  which  he  found 
"  in  the  thousands  and  thousands  of  diverse  living  con- 
structions "  that  surrounded  him.  The  force  and  vivid- 
ness of  his  style  find  their  explanation  in  the  fact  that  he 


The  Selections  xix 

was  always  an  investigator  and  thus  always  a  learner. 
No  man  could  vivify  and  humanize  the  claims  of  science 
as  Huxley  has  done  unless  he  was  himself  invigorated  by  a 
sense  of  daily  growth  and  achievement.  The  lesson  of 
his  style  at  last  is  not,  Study  science  that  you  may  learn  to 
write  clearly,  but,  Think  for  yourself  that  your  message 
may  come  with  force,  directness,  and  conviction. 


II 

THE  SELECTIONS 

THE  selections  that  follow  have  been  chosen  with 
three  ends  in  view :  ( I )  To  throw  light  on  the  char- 
acter and  services  of  Huxley;  (2)  to  stimulate  an  inter- 
est in  the  principles  and  problems  of  modern  science;  and 
(3)  to  furnish  examples  of  clear,  flexible,  forceful  prose. 
It  will  be  seen  that  the  Autobiography  is  an  admirable 
example  of  narration,  that  the  Letters  furnish  still  more 
interesting  examples  of  both  narration  and  description, 
and  that  the  Essays  confine  themselves  almost  wholly  to 
exposition  and  argumentation.  The  selections  exemplify, 
therefore,  the  four  literary  types  or  kinds  of  discourse. 

What  follows  is  intended  to  serve  as  an  introduction 
not  only  to  the  selections  themselves  but  also  to  the  Notes 
and  Comment  and  to  the  Questions  and  Topics  for  Study. 

I.  AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  On  March  2,  1889,  Huxley 
wrote  to  his  wife:  "A  man  who  is  bringing  out  a  series 
of  portraits  of  celebrities,  with  a  sketch  of  their  career 
attached,  has  bothered  me  out  of  my  life  for  something 
to  go  with  my  portrait,  and  to  escape  the  abominable  bad 
taste  of  some  of  the  notices,  I  have  done  that.  I  shall 
show  it  to  you  before  it  goes  back  to  Engel  in  proof." 


xx  Introduction 

To  Engel  he  wrote:  "You  are  really  the  most  perti- 
naciously persuasive  of  men.  When  you  first  wrote  to  me, 
I  said  I  would  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  any- 
thing you  might  please  to  say  about  me,  that  I  had  a 
profound  objection  to  write  about  myself,  and  that  I  could 
not  see  what  business  the  public  had  with  my  private 
life.  I  think  I  even  expressed  to  you  my  complete  sym- 
pathy with  Dr.  Johnson's  desire  to  take  Boswell's  life 
when  he  heard  of  the  latter's  occupation  with  his  biography. 

"  Undeterred  by  all  this,  you  put  before  me  the  alterna- 
tive of  issuing  something  that  may  be  all  wrong,  unless 
I  furnish  you  with  something  authoritative;  I  do  not  say 
all  right,  because  autobiographies  are  essentially  works  of 
fiction,  whatever  biographies  may  be.  So  I  yield,  and 
send  you  what  follows,  in  the  hope  that  those  who  find  it 
to  be  mere  egotistical  gossip  will  blame  you  and  not  me." 

The  Autobiography  was  written,  then,  in  1889,  six 
years  before  Huxley's  death.  It  was  published  in  Method 
and  Results  (1893),  which  is  volume  one  of  Huxley's 
Collected  Essays.  Huxley  was  often  urged  to  write  a 
longer  sketch  of  his  life,  but  seemed  to  think  it  not  worth 
the  time.  His  best  autobiography  is  to  be  found  in  the 
letters  published  in  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Thomas 
Henry  Huxley,  by  his  son,  Leonard  Huxley  (American 
edition,  2  volumes,  New  York,  1901). 

2.  LETTERS.  These  letters,  dating  from  1852  to  1892, 
are  really  a  continuation  of  the  Autobiography,  no  form 
of  literature  being  as  truly  autobiographic  as  the  letter. 
They  present  Huxley  the  man,  Huxley  the  scientist, 
Huxley  the  public-spirited  citizen.  The  frank  expression 
of  his  hopes  and  ideals,  the  impressions  made  upon  him 
by  the  funerals  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington  and  Tenny- 
son, his  immediate  recognition  of  the  significance  of 
Darwin's  great  work,  his  interesting  description  of  the 


The  Selections  xxi 

day  spent  on  Mount  Vesuvius,  his  magnanimous  estimate 
of  Pasteur's  services,  the  sturdy  common  sense  of  his  ad- 
vice to  a  young  man — all  these  supplement  the  Auto- 
biography at  vital  points.  The  style  of  these  letters  is 
notable,  too,  for  its  freedom  and  flexibility,  and  for  a 
certain  rapidity  of  thought  which  Huxley  said  he  owed  to 
his  mother. 

3.  ON  THE  ADVISABLENESS  OF  IMPROVING  NATURAL 
KNOWLEDGE.  This  lay  sermon  was  delivered  in  St.  Mar- 
tin's Hall,  London,  January  7,  1866.  It  was  published 
in  Lay  Sermons,  Addresses,  and  Reviews  (1870),  and 
republished  in  the  first  volume  of  Collected  Essays.  Hux- 
ley had  spoken  in  St.  Martin's  Hall  twelve  years  before 
on  The  Educational  Value  of  the  Natural  History  Sci- 
ences. The  earlier  address  marked  the  beginning  of 
Huxley's  persistent  endeavor  to  secure  for  science  its 
rightful  place  in  the  educational  system  of  England.  The 
two  addresses  are  strikingly  alike.  Of  the  first  (now 
published  in  the  third  volume  of  Collected  Essays)  Huxley 
said :  "  It  contains  some  crudities,  which  I  repudiated  when 
the  lecture  was  first  reprinted,  more  than  twenty  years 
ago ;  but  it  will  be  seen  that  much  of  what  I  have  had  to 
say,  later  on  in  life,  is  merely  a  development  of  the 
propositions  enunciated  in  this  early  and  sadly  imperfect 
piece  of  work."  One  passage,  at  least,  in  the  earlier 
essay  deserves  reproduction :  "  So  far  as  I  can  arrive  at 
any  clear  comprehension  of  the  matter,  science  is  not, 
as  many  would  seem  to  suppose,  a  modification  of  the 
black  art,  suited  to  the  tastes  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
and  flourishing  mainly  in  consequence  of  the  decay  of  the 
Inquisition.  Science  is,  I  believe,  nothing  but  trained 
and  organized  common  sense,  differing  from  the  latter 
only  as  a  veteran  may  differ  from  a  raw  recruit." 

The   address   here    reproduced   might   be   called    The 


xxii  Introduction 

Cultural  vs.  the  Utilitarian  Value  of  Science.  It  was 
not  delivered  to  working  men,  and  is  hardly  so  popular 
in  style  or  so  practical  in  purpose  as  are  the  two  follow- 
ing addresses.  Its  theme  is  the  desirableness,  not  any  par- 
ticular method,  of  improving  natural  knowledge.  The 
two  leading  thoughts — that  science  not  only  provides  ma- 
terial comforts  but  (i)  implants  great  ideas  and  (2) 
inculcates  a  higher  type  of  ethics — are  presented  with 
great  clearness.  The  second  point,  however,  can  hardly 
be  considered  as  proved.  The  introduction  to  the  essay 
proper,  though  a  trifle  long,  is  a  model  of  its  kind. 

4.  A  LIBERAL  EDUCATION:  AND  WHERE  TO  FIND  IT. 
This  was  the  opening  address  that  Huxley  delivered  as 
Principal  of  the  South  London  Working  Men's  College 
on  January  4,  1868.  It  was  published  in  Lay  Sermons, 
Addresses,  and  Reviews  ( 1870)  and  republished  in  the  third 
volume  of  Collected  Essays.  This  address  differs  radically 
in  method  from  the  preceding.  It  is  a  presentation  by 
means  of  a  carefully  formulated  definition.  If  the  defini- 
tion of  the  liberally  educated  man  be  conceded,  where  can 
such  an  education  be  found?  What,  then,  is  needed? 

This  lecture  and  the  following,  says  Mr.  Leonard 
Huxley,  "seem  to  me  to  mark  the  maturing  of  his  style 
into  that  mastery  of  clear  expression  for  which  he  delib- 
erately labored,  the  saying  exactly  what  he  meant,  neither 
too  much  nor  too  little.  ...  Be  clear,  though  you 
may  be  convicted  of  error.  If  you  are  clearly  wrong,  you 
will  run  up  against  a  fact  some  time  and  get  set  right. 
If  you  shuffle  with  your  subject,  and  study  chiefly  to  use 
language  which  will  give  a  loophole  of  escape  either  way, 
there  is  no  hope  for  you.  This  was  the  secret  of  his 
lucidity."  This  may  be  the  secret  of  Huxley's  lucidity, 
but  lucidity  alone  is  not  the  distinguishing  characteristic 
of  Huxley's  style.  His  style  is  more  than  lucid.  Its 


The  Selections  xxiii 

lucidity  is  vitalized  by  conviction  and  enthusiasm.  These 
are  personal  or  rather,  emotional  traits,  while  lucidity 
is  purely  intellectual.  Euclid  and  Blackstone  are  lucid; 
Macaulay  and  Huxley  are  vivid. 

Huxley  began  his  lectures  to  working  men  in  1855.  "  I 
am  sick  of  the  dilettante  class,"  he  wrote,  "  and  mean  to 
try  what  I  can  do  with  these  hard-handed  fellows  who 
live  among  facts."  Only  working  men  were  admitted, 
though  a  clerk  once  secured  admission  by  calling  himself 
a  "  driver."  He  was  in  fact  a  "  quill-driver."  The  at- 
tendance and  attention  were  equally  gratifying,  and  Hux- 
ley exerted  himself  to  the  utmost  to  make  these  lectures 
a  power  for  right  thinking  and  right  living.  They 
represent  him  at  his  best  in  the  spoken  presentation  of 
scientific  truth. 

5.  ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK.  This  lecture  was  de- 
livered to  the  working  men  of  Norwich  during  the  meet- 
ing of  the  British  Association  in  1 868.  It  was  published 
in  Lay  Sermons,  Addresses,  and  Reviews  (1870),  and 
republished  in  the  eighth  volume  of  Collected  Essays.  An 
interesting  reference  to  Mrs.  Huxley's  good  judgment  is 
made  by  Huxley  in  connection  with  the  proof-sheets  of 
this  lecture.  He  wrote  to  her  from  Norwich,  August  23, 
1866:  "I  met  Grove  who  edits  Macmillan,  at  the  soiree. 
He  pulled  the  proof  of  my  lecture  out  of  his  pocket  and 
said :  '  Look  here,  there  is  one  paragraph  in  your  lecture 
I  can  make  neither  top  nor  tail  of.  I  can't  understand 
what  it  means.'  I  looked  to  where  his  finger  pointed, 
and  behold  it  was  the  paragraph  you  objected  to  when  I 
read  you  the  lecture  on  the  seashore !  I  told  him,  and  said 
I  should  confess,  however  set  up  it  might  make  you." 

"  The  address  is  noteworthy,"  says  Mr.  J.  R.  Ains- 
worth  Davis,  "  in  a  variety  of  ways.  For  one  thing  it 
marks  the  increasing  interest  which  men  of  science  were 


xxiv  Introduction 

beginning  to  take  in  deep-sea  life,  and  which  culminated 
in  the  equipment  and  despatch  of  the  Challenger  expedi- 
tion towards  the  end  of  1872."  Interest  in  deep-sea 
problems,  it  may  be  said,  had  been  greatly  stimulated  by 
the  publication  in  1855  of  Matthew  Fontaine  Maury's 
Physical  Geography  of  the  Sea.  This  book  was  re- 
printed in  England,  where  it  passed  through  more  than 
twenty  editions.  Huxley's  address  is  noteworthy  also 
as  a  perfect  example  of  how  a  thinker  can  take  a  seemingly 
trivial  subject  and  make  it  "  a  window  into  the  infinite." 
Huxley's  Piece  of  Chalk  belongs  with  Tennyson's  Flower 
in  the  Crannied  Wall. 

6.  ON  SCIENCE  AND  ART  IN  RELATION  TO  EDUCA- 
TION. This  lecture  was  delivered  at  a  meeting  of  the 
Liverpool  Institution  in  1882  and  published  in  the  third 
volume  of  Collected  Essays.  It  forms  a  fitting  conclusion 
to  our  selections  because  Huxley  here  summarizes  his 
views  about  education,  defends  his  position  against  the 
charge  of  one-sidedness,  re-affirms  what  he  has  said  about 
science,  and  then  talks  interestingly  and  helpfully  about 
literature  in  general,  about  grammar,  drawing,  English 
literature  in  particular,  English  composition,  the  value  of 
translations — in  fact,  "  all  the  essentials  of  education  for 
an  English  child." 

In  simplicity  of  style,  in  maturity  of  thought,  in  range 
and  variety  of  topics  discussed,  in  autobiographic  signifi- 
cance, in  all  the  elements  of  clear  and  forceful  exposition, 
this  lecture  outranks  (in  the  editor's  opinion)  all  that 
have  preceded  it.  It  is,  therefore,  more  than  a  conclusion 
to  our  selections:  it  is,  in  its  way,  a  summary  and  a 
culmination. 


DESCRIPTIVE   BIBLIOGRAPHY 

THE  best  account  of  Huxley's  life  and  varied  activities 
is  The  Life  and  Letters  of  Thomas  Henry  Huxley,  by 
his  son,  Leonard  Huxley,  in  two  volumes  (London, 
1900).  The  American  edition  is  published  by  D.  Apple- 
ton  and  Company,  New  York.  This  is  one  of  the  most 
interesting  and  stimulating  of  modern  biographies.  The 
whole  modern  scientific  movement  is  reflected  in  it.  A 
good  book,  made  of  gleanings  from  The  Life  and  Letters, 
is  Thomas  Henry  Huxley,  by  Edward  Clodd,  to  whom 
some  of  the  Huxley  letters  were  written.  This  /olume 
is  number  eight  in  the  Modern  English  Writers  Series 
(Dodd,  Mead  and  Company,  New  York,  1902).  Clodd 
discusses  Huxley  in  successive  chapters  as  Man  (the  best 
chapter),  Discoverer,  Interpreter,  Controversialist,  and 
Constructor,  there  being  no  chapter  on  Huxley  the 
Writer.  Chalmers  Mitchell's  Thomas  Henry  Huxley: 
A  Sketch  of  His  Life  and  Work,  and  George  Smalley's 
Mr.  Huxley  (published  in  Scribner's  Magazine,  October, 
1895)  are  interesting  presentations  from  different  points 
of  view,  but  they  are  less  significant  since  the  appearance 
of  The  Life  and  Letters.  Fiske's  Reminiscences  of  Hux- 
ley (in  The  Atlantic  Monthly,  February,  1901)  is  an 
eminently  readable  sketch  of  Huxley  the  man.  The  best 
sketch  of  Huxley,  as  a  scientist,  is  Thomas  H.  Huxley, 
by  J.  R.  Ainsworth  Davis  (London  and  New  York, 
1907).  A  complete  list  of  obituary  notices  and  personal 
reminiscences  will  be  found  in  Poole's  Index  to  Periodical 

XXV 


xxvi  Descriptive  Bibliography 

Literature,   Third   Supplement,    1892-1896,   and   Fourth 
Supplement,  1897-1902. 

Huxley's  writings  (essays,  books,  and  scientific 
memoirs)  form  Appendix  III  in  The  Life  and  Letters 
and  cover  nineteen  pages.  Only  the  more  significant 
books  need  be  mentioned  here.  The  dates  are  those  of 
first  editions: 

1863.    Evidence  as  to  Man's  Place  in  Nature. 

The  main  contention  of  the  book  is  thus  summarized  on 
page  67:  "Without  question,  the  mode  of  origin  and 
the  early  stages  of  the  development  of  man  are  iden- 
tical with  those  of  the  animals  immediately  below 
him  in  the  scale:  without  a  doubt,  in  these  respects,  he 
is  far  nearer  the  Apes  than  the  Apes  are  to  the  Dog." 

1866.     Lessons  in  Elementary  Physiology. 

This  has  proved  the  most  popular  of  Huxley's  books. 
Before  his  death  it  had  passed  into  its  fourth  edition 
and  been  reprinted  twenty-eight  times. 

1870.    Lay  Sermons,  Addresses,  and  Reviews. 

The  fifteen  chapters  cover  the  years  from  1854  to 
1870.  The  volume  includes  the  first  three  addresses 
reprinted  in  this  book. 

1877.  American   Addresses. 

These  addresses  are  good  illustrations  of  how  scientific 
accuracy  may  be  not  only  joined  with  but  vitalized 
by  imagination.  They  discuss  university  education, 
creation,  evolution,  and  methods  of  biological  study. 
The  lecture  On  the  Study  of  Biology,  though  included 
in  American  Addresses,  was  not  delivered  until  after 
Huxley's  return  to  England. 

1878.  Hume. 

Though  this  book  appeared  in  the  English  Men  of 
Letters  Series,  the  emphasis  is  naturally  upon  Hume 
the  philosopher.  "  It  is  assuredly  one  of  Hume's 
greatest  merits,"  says  Huxley  on  page  63,  "  that  he 
clearly  recognized  the  fact  that  philosophy  is  based 
upon  psychology ;  and  that  the  inquiry  into  the  con- 
tents and  the  operations  of  the  mind  must  be  con- 
ducted upon  the  same  principles  as  a  physical  investiga- 


Descriptive  Bibliography  xxvii 

tion,  if  what  he  calls  the  '  moral  philosopher '  would 
attain  results  of  as  firm  and  definite  a  character  as 
those  which  reward  the  '  natural  philosopher.' " 

1893.    Evolution  and  Ethics. 

Huxley's  views  on  this  subject  are  tersely  stated  in  a 
letter  of  March  23,  1894:  "There  are  two  very  dif- 
ferent questions  which  people  fail  to  discriminate. 
One  is  whether  evolution  accounts  for  morality,  the 
other  whether  the  principle  of  evolution  in  general 
can  be  adopted  as  an  ethical  principle.  The  first,  of 
course,  I  advocate,  and  have  constantly  insisted  upon. 
The  second  I  deny,  and  reject  all  so-called  evolutional 
ethics  based  upon  it." 

1893-1894.     Collected  Essays. 

These  nine  volumes  contain  all  of  Huxley's  writings 
that  he  cared  to  preserve,  except  the  more  technical 
papers. 

1898-1903.  The  Scientific  Memoirs  of  Thomas  Henry  Huxley. 
These,  the  purely  scientific  works  of  Huxley,  were 
edited  in  five  volumes  by  Michael  Foster  and  E. 
Ray  Lankester. 


SELECTIONS  FROM  HUXLEY 


AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

(1889) 

And  when  I  consider,  in  one  view,  the  many  things  .   .    . 
which  I  have  upon  my  hands,   I  feel  the  burlesque  of  being 
employed  in  this  manner  at  my  time  of  life.     But,  in  another 
view,  and  taking  in  all  circumstances,  these  things,   as  trifling 
as  they  may  appear,  no  less  than  things  of  greater  importance,  5 
seem  to  be  put  upon  me  to  do. — Bishop  Butler  to  the  Duchess 
of  Somerset. 

THE  "many  things"  to  which  the  Duchess's  corre- 
spondent here  refers  are  the  repairs  and  improvements 
of  the  episcopal  seat  at  Auckland.  I  doubt  if  the  great  10 
apologist,  greater  in  nothing  than  in  the  simple  dignity 
of  his  character,  would  have  considered  the  writing  an 
account  of  himself  as  a  thing  which  could  be  put  upon 
him  to  do  whatever  circumstances  might  be  taken  in. 
But  the  good  bishop  lived  in  an  age  when  a  man  might  15 
write  books  and  yet  be  permitted  to  keep  his  private  exist- 
ence to  himself;  in  the  pre-Boswellian  epoch,  when  the 
germ  of  the  photographer  lay  concealed  in  the  distant 
future,  and  the  interviewer  who  pervades  our  age  was  an 
unforeseen,  indeed  unimaginable,  birth  of  time.  20 

At  present,  the  most  convinced  believer  in  the  aphorism 
" Bene  qu'i  latuit,  bene  vixit"  is  not  always  able  to  act 
up  to  it.  An  importunate  person  informs  him  that  his 
portrait  is  about  to  be  published  and  will  be  accompanied 
by  a  biography  which  the  importunate  person  proposes  to  25 
write.  The  sufferer  knows  what  that  means;  either  he 


4  Selections  from  Huxley 

undertakes  to  revise  the  "biography"  or  he  does  not.  In 
the  former  case,  he  makes  himself  responsible ;  in  the  latter, 
he  allows  the  publication  of  a  mass  of  more  or  less  ful- 
some inaccuracies  for  which  he  will  be  held  responsible 
5  by  those  who  are  familiar  with  the  prevalent  art  of  self- 
advertisement.  On  the  whole,  it  may  be  better  to  get 
over  the  "  burlesque  of  being  employed  in  this  manner " 
and  do  the  thing  himself. 

It  was  by  reflections  of  this  kind  that,  some  years  ago,  I 
10  was  led  to  write  and  permit  the  publication  of  the  sub- 
joined sketch. 

I  was  born  about  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning  on  the 
4th  of  May,  1825,  at  Ealing,  which  was,  at  that  time,  as 
quiet  a  little  country  village  as  could  be  found  within 

15  half-a-dozen  miles  of  Hyde  Park  Corner.  Now  it  is  a 
suburb  of  London  with,  I  believe,  30,000  inhabitants. 
My  father  was  one  of  the  masters  in  a  large  semi-public 
school  which  at  one  time  had  a  high  reputation.  I  am  not 
aware  that  any  portents  preceded  my  arrival  in  this  world, 

20  but,  in  my  childhood,  I  remember  having  a  traditional 
account  of  the  manner  in  which  I  lost  the  chance  of  an 
endowment  of  great  practical  value.  The  windows  of 
my  mother's  room  were  open,  in  consequence  of  the  un- 
usual warmth  of  the  weather.  For  the  same  reason,  prob- 

25  ably,  a  neighboring  beehive  had  swarmed,  and  the  new 
colony,  pitching  on  the  window-sill,  was  making  its  way 
into  the  room  when  the  horrified  nurse  shut  down  the  sash. 
If  that  well-meaning  woman  had  only  abstained  from  her 
ill-timed  interference,  the  swarm  might  have  settled  on 

30  my  lips,  and  I  should  have  been  endowed  with  that  mel- 
lifluous eloquence  which,  in  this  country,  leads  far  more 
surely  than  worth,  capacity,  or  honest  work,  to  the  high- 
est places  in  church  and  state.  But  the  opportunity  was 


Autobiography  5 

lost,  and  I  have  been  obliged  to  content  myself  through 
life  with  saying  what  I  mean  in  the  plainest  of  plain  lan- 
guage,  than   which,   I   suppose,   there   is   no   habit   more 
ruinous  to  a  man's  prospects  of  advancement. 
^  Why  I  was  christened  Thomas  Henry  I  do  not  know;  5 
but  it  is  a  curious  chance  that  my  parents  should  have 
fixed  for  my  usual  denomination  upon  the  name  of  that  par- 
ticular Apostle  with  whom  I  have  always  felt  most  sym- 
pathy.   Physically  and  mentally  I  am  the  son  of  my  mother 
so  completely — even  down  to  peculiar  movements  of  the  10 
hands,  which  made  their  appearance  in  me  as  I  reached 
the  age  she  had  when  I  noticed  them — that  I  can  hardly 
find  any  trace  of  my  father  in  myself,  except  an  inborn 
faculty  for  drawing,  which  unfortunately,  in  my  case,  has 
never  been  cultivated,  a  hot  temper,  and  that  amount  of  15 
tenacity  of  purpose  which  unfriendly  observers  sometimes 
call  obstinacy. 

My  mother  was  a  slender  brunette,  of  an  emotional 
and   energetic   temperament,   and   possessed   of   the  most 
piercing  black  eyes  I  ever  saw  in  a  woman's  head.    With  20 
no  more  education  than  other  women  of  the  middle  classes 
in  her  day,  she  had  an  excellent  mental  capacity.     Her 
most  distinguishing  characteristic,  however,  was  rapidity 
of  thought.    If  one  ventured  to  suggest  she  had  not  taken 
much  time  to  arrive  at  any  conclusion,  she  would  say:  25 
"  I  cannot  help  it,  things  flash  across  me."     That  pecu- 
liarity has  been  passed  on  to  me  in  full  strength;  it  has 
often  stood  me  in  good  stead ;  it  has  sometimes  played  me 
sad  tricks,  and  it  has  always  been  a  danger.     But,  after 
all,  if  my  time  were  to  come  over  again,  there  is  nothing  30 
I  would  less  willingly  part  with  than  my  inheritance  of 
mother  wit. 

I  have  next  to  nothing  to  say  about  my  childhood.     In 
later  years  my  mother,  looking  at  me  almost  reproachfully, 


6  Selections  from  Huxley 

would  sometimes  say,  "  Ah !  you  were  such  a  pretty  boy !  " 
whence  I  had  no  difficulty  in  concluding  that  I  had  not 
fulfilled  my  early  promise  in  the  matter  of  looks.  In 
fact,  I  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  certain  curls  of 
5  which  I  was  vain,  and  of  a  conviction  that  I  closely 
resembled  that  handsome,  courtly  gentleman,  Sir  Herbert 
Oakley,  who  was  vicar  of  our  parish,  and  who  was  as  a 
god  to  us  country  folk,  because  he  was  occasionally  visited 
by  the  then  Prince  George  of  Cambridge.  I  remember 

10  turning  my  pinafore  wrong  side  forwards  in  order  to 
represent  a  surplice,  and  preaching  to  my  mother's  maids 
in  the  kitchen  as  nearly  as  possible  in  Sir  Herbert's  manner 
one  Sunday  morning  when  the  rest  of  the  family  were  at 
church.  That  is  the  earliest  indication  I  can  call  to  mind 

15  of  the  strong  clerical  affinities  which  my  friend  Mr.  Her- 
bert Spencer  has  always  ascribed  to  me,  though  I  fancy 
they  have  for  the  most  part  remained  in  a  latent  state. 

My  regular  school  training  was  of  the  briefest,  per- 
haps fortunately,  for  though  my  way  of  life  has  made  me 

20  acquainted  with  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men,  from  the 
highest  to  the  lowest,  I  deliberately  affirm  that  the 
society  I  fell  into  at  school  was  the  worst  I  have  ever 
known.  We  boys  were  average  lads,  with  much  the  same 
inherent  capacity  for  good  and  evil  as  any  others;  but  the 

25  people  who  were  set  over  us  cared  about  as  much  for  our 
intellectual  and  moral  welfare  as  if  they  were  baby- 
farmers.  We  were  left  to  the  operation  of  the  struggle 
for  existence  among  ourselves,  and  bullying  was  the  least 
of  the  ill  practices  current  among  us.  Almost  the  only 

30  cheerful  reminiscence  in  connection  with  the  place  which 
arises  in  my  mind  is  that  of  a  battle  I  had  with  one  of  my 
classmates,  who  had  bullied  me  until  I  could  stand  it 
no  longer.  I  was  a  very  slight  lad,  but  there  was  a  wild- 
cat element  in  me  which,  when  roused,  made  up  for  lack  of 


Autobiography  7 

weight,  and  I  licked  my  adversary  effectually.  However, 
one  of  my  first  experiences  of  the  extremely  rough-and- 
ready  nature  of  justice,  as  exhibited  by  the  course  of 
things  in  general,  arose  out  of  the  fact  that  I — the  victor — 
had  a  black  eye,  while  he — the  vanquished — had  none,  so  5 
that  I  got  into  disgrace  and  he  did  not.  We  made  it  up, 
and  thereafter  I  was  unmolested.  One  of  the  greatest 
shocks  I  ever  received  in  my  life  was  to  be  told  a  dozen 
years  afterwards  by  the  groom  who  brought  me  my  horse 
in  a  stable-yard  in  Sydney  that  he  was  my  quondam  an-  10 
tagonist.  He  had  a  long  story  of  family  misfortune  to 
account  for  his  position,  but  at  that  time  it  was  necessary 
to  deal  very  cautiously  with  mysterious  strangers  in  New 
South  Wales,  and  on  inquiry  I  found  that  the  unfortunate 
young  man  had  not  only  been  "  sent  out,"  but  had  under-  15 
gone  more  than  one  colonial  conviction. 

As  I  grew  older,  my  great  desire  was  to  be  a  me- 
chanical engineer,  but  the  fates  were  against  this  and, 
while  very  young,  I  commenced  the  study  of  medicine 
under  a  medical  brother-in-law.  But,  though  the  In-  20 
stitute  of  Mechanical  Engineers  would  certainly  not  own 
me,  I  am  not  sure  that  I  have  not  all  along  been  a  sort 
of  mechanical  engineer  in  partibus  inftdelium.  I  am  now 
occasionally  horrified  to  think  how  very  little  I  ever  knew 
or  cared  about  medicine  as  the  art  of  healing.  The  only  25 
part  of  my  professional  course  which  really  and  deeply  in- 
terested me  was  physiology,  which  is  the  mechanical  engi- 
neering of  living  machines;  and,  notwithstanding  that 
natural  science  has  been  my  proper  business,  I  am  afraid 
there  is  very  little  of  the  genuine  naturalist  in  me.  I  30 
never  collected  anything,  and  species  work  was  always  a 
burden  to  me;  what  I  cared  for  was  the  architectural 
and  engineering  part  of  the  business,  the  working  out  of 
the  wonderful  unity  of  plan  in  the  thousands  and  thou- 


8  Selections  from  Huxley 

sands  of  diverse  living  constructions,  and  the  modifications 
of  similar  apparatuses  to  serve  diverse  ends.  The  ex- 
traordinary attraction  I  felt  towards  the  study  of  the  in- 
tricacies of  living  structure  nearly  proved  fatal  to  me  at 
5  the  outset.  I  was  a  mere  boy — I  think  between  thirteen 
and  fourteen  years  of  age — when  I  was  taken  by  some 
older  student  friends  of  mine  to  the  first  post-mortem 
examination  I  ever  attended.  All  my  life  I  have  been 
most  unfortunately  sensitive  to  the  disagreeables  which 

10  attend  anatomical  pursuits,  but  on  this  occasion  my  curi- 
osity overpowered  all  other  feelings,  and  I  spent  two  or 
three  hours  in  gratifying  it.  I  did  not  cut  myself,  and 
none  of  the  ordinary  symptoms  of  dissection-poison  super- 
vened, but  poisoned  I  was  somehow,  and  I  remember 

15  sinking  into  a  strange  state  of  apathy.  By  way  of  a  last 
chance,  I  was  sent  to  the  care  of  some  good,  kind  people, 
friends  of  my  father's,  who  lived  in  a  farmhouse  in  the 
heart  of  Warwickshire.  I  remember  staggering  from  my 
bed  to  the  window  on  the  bright  spring  morning  after  my 

20  arrival,  and  throwing  open  the  casement.  Life  seemed  to 
come  back  on  the  wings  of  the  breeze,  and  to  this  day  the 
faint  odor  of  wood-smoke,  like  that  which  floated  across 
the  farm-yard  in  the  early  morning,  is  as  good  to  me 
as  the  "sweet  south  upon  a  bed  of  violets."  I  soon  re- 

25  covered,  but  for  years  I  suffered  from  occasional  paroxysms 
of  internal  pain,  and  from  that  time  my  constant  friend, 
hypochondriacal  dyspepsia,  commenced  his  half  century  of 
co-tenancy  of  my  fleshly  tabernacle. 

Looking   back    on    my    "  Lehrjahre,"    I    am    sorry   to 

30  say  that  I  do  not  think  that  any  account  of  my  doings 
as  a  student  would  tend  to  edification.  In  fact,  I  should 
distinctly  warn  ingenuous  youth  to  avoid  imitating  my 
example.  I  worked  extremely  hard  when  it  pleased  me, 
and  when  it  did  not — which  was  a  very  frequent  case — 


Autobiography  9 

I  was  extremely  idle  (unless  making  caricatures  of  one's 
pastors  and  masters  is  to  be  called  a  branch  of  industry), 
or  else  wasted  my  energies  in  wrong  directions.  I  read 
everything  I  could  lay  hands  upon,  including  novels,  and 
took  up  all  sorts  of  pursuits  to  drop  them  again  quite  as  5 
speedily.  No  doubt  it  was  very  largely  my  own  fault,  but 
the  only  instruction  from  which  I  ever  obtained  the  proper 
effect  of  education  was  that  which  I  received  from  Mr. 
Wharton  Jones,  wfio  was  the  lecturer  on  physiology  at  the 
Charing  Cross  School  of  Medicine.  The  extent  and  pre-  10 
cision  of  his  knowledge  impressed  me  greatly,  and  the 
severe  exactness  of  his  method  of  lecturing  was  quite  to 
my  taste.  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  ever  felt  so  much 
respect  for  anybody  as  a  teacher  before  or  since.  I  worked 
hard  to  obtain  his  approbation,  and  he  was  extremely  kind  15 
and  helpful  to  the  youngster  who,  I  am  afraid,  took  up 
more  of  his  time  than  he  had  any  right  to  do.  It  was 
he  who  suggested  the  publication  of  my  first  scientific 
paper — a  very  little  one — in  the  Medical  Gazette  of  1845, 
and  most  kindly  corrected  the  literary  faults  which  20 
abounded  in  it,  short  as  it  was ;  for  at  that  time,  and  for 
many  years  afterwards,  I  detested  the  trouble  of  writing, 
and  would  take  no  pains  over  it. 

It  was  in  the  early  spring  of  1846,  that,  having  fin- 
ished my  obligatory  medical  studies  and  passed  the  first  25 
M.D.  examination  at  the  London  University, — though 
I  was  still  too  young  to  qualify  at  the  College  of  Sur- 
geons,— I  was  talking  to  a  fellow-student  (the  present 
eminent  physician,  Sir  Joseph  Fayrer),  and  wondering 
what  I  should  do  to  meet  the  imperative  necessity  for  30 
earning  my  own  bread,  when  my  friend  suggested  that  I 
should  write  to  Sir  William  Burnett,  at  that  time  Director- 
General  for  the  Medical  Service  of  the  Navy,  for  an 
appointment.  I  thought  this  rather  a  strong  thing  to  do, 


io  Selections  from  Huxley 

as  Sir  William  was  personally  unknown  to  me,  but  my 
cheery  friend  would  not  listen  to  my  scruples,  so  I  went 
to  my  lodgings  and  wrote  the  best  letter  I  could  devise. 
A  few  days  afterwards  I  received  the  usual  official  cir- 
5  cular  acknowledgment,  but  at  the  bottom  there  was 
written  an  instruction  to  call  at  Somerset  House  on  such 
a  day.  I  thought  that  looked  like  business,  so  at  the  ap- 
pointed time  I  called  and  sent  in  my  card,  while  I 
waited  in  Sir  William's  ante-room!1*  He  was  a  tall, 

io  shrewd-looking  old  gentleman,  with  a  broad  Scotch  ac- 
cent— and  I  think  I  see  him  now  as  he  entered  with  my 
card  in  his  hand.  The  first  thing  he  did  was  to  return  it, 
with  the  frugal  reminder  that  I  should  probably  find  it 
useful  on  some  other  occasion.  The  second  was  to  ask 

15  whether  I  was  an  Irishman.  I  suppose  the  air  of  modesty 
about  my  appeal  must  have  struck  him.  I  satisfied  the 
Director-General  that  I  was  English  to  the  backbone, 
and  he  made  some  inquiries  as  to  my  student  career,  finally 
desiring  me  to  hold  myself  ready  for  examination.  Having 

20  passed  this,  I  was  in  her  Majesty's  service,  and  entered  on 
the  books  of  Nelson's  old  ship,  the  Victory,  for  duty  at 
Haslar  Hospital,  about  a  couple  of  months  after  I  made 
my  application. 

My  official  chief  at  Haslar  was  a  very  remarkable  per- 

25  son,  the  late  Sir  John  Richardson,  an  excellent  naturalist, 
and  far-famed  as  an  indomitable  Arctic  traveler.  He  was 
a  silent,  reserved  man,  outside  the  circle  of  his  family  and 
intimates;  and,  having  a  full  share  of  youthful  vanity,  I 
was  extremely  disgusted  to  find  that  "  Old  John,"  as  we 

30  irreverent  youngsters  called  him,  took  not  the  slightest 
notice  of  my  worshipful  self  either  the  first  time  I  at- 
tended him,  as  it  was  my  duty  to  do,  or  for  some  weeks 
afterwards.  I  am  afraid  to  think  of  the  lengths  to  which 
my  tongue  may  have  run  on  the  subject  of  the  churlish- 


Autobiography  n 

ness  of  the  chief,  who  was,  in  truth,  one  of  the  kindest- 
hearted  and  most  considerate  of  men.  But  one  day,  as  I 
was  crossing  the  hospital  square,  Sir  John  stopped  me,  and 
heaped  coals  of  fire  on  my  head  by  telling  me  that  he  had 
tried  to  get  me  one  of  the  resident  appointments,  much  5 
coveted  by  the  assistant  surgeons,  but  that  the  Admiralty 
had  put  in  another  man.  "  However,"  said  he,  "  I  mean 
to  keep  you  here  till  I  can  get  you  something  you  will 
like,"  and  turned  upon  his  heel  without  waiting  for  the 
thanks  I  stammered  out.  That  explained  how  it  was  I  had  10 
not  been  packed  off  to  the  west  coast  of  Africa  like  some 
of  my  juniors,  and  why,  eventually,  I  remained  alto- 
gether seven  months  at  Haslar. 

After  a  long  interval,  during  which  "  Old  John  "  ig- 
nored my  existence  almost  as  completely  as  before,   he  15 
stopped  me  again  as  we  met  in  a  casual  way,  and  describ- 
ing the  service  on  which  the  Rattlesnake  was  likely  to  be 
employed,  said  that  Captain  Owen  Stanley,  who  Was  to 
command  the  ship,  had  asked  him  to  recommend  an  as- 
sistant surgeon  who  knew  something  of  science;  would  I  20 
like  that?    Of  course  I  jumped  at  the  offer.    "  Very  well, 
I  give  you  leave ;  go  to  London  at  once  and  see  Captain 
Stanley."     I  went,  saw  my  future  commander,  who  was 
very  civil  to  me,  and  promised  to  ask  that  I  should  be 
appointed  to  his  ship,  as  in  due  time  I  was.    It  is  a  singu-  25 
lar  thing  that,  during  the  few  months  of  my  stay  at  Has- 
lar, I  had  among  my  messmates  two  future  Directors- 
General  of  the  Medical  Service  of  the  Navy  (Sir  Alex- 
ander Armstrong  and   Sir  John  Watt-Reid),   with   the 
present  President  of  the  College  of  Physicians  and  my  30 
kindest  of  doctors,  Sir  Andrew  Clark. 

Life  on  board  her  Majesty's  ship  in  those  days  was 
a  very  different  affair  from  what  it  is  now,  and  ours 
was  exceptionally  rough,  as  we  were  often  many  months 


12  Selections  from  Huxley 

without  receiving  letters  or  seeing  any  civilized  people 
but  ourselves.  In  exchange,  we  had  the  interest  of  being 
about  the  last  voyagers,  I  suppose,  to  whom  it  could  be 
possible  to  meet  with  people  who  knew  nothing  of  fire- 
5  arms — as  we  did  on  the  south  coast  of  New  Guinea — and 
of  making  acquaintance  with  a  variety  of  interesting  savage 
and  semi-civilized  people.  But,  apart  from  experience  of 
this  kind  and  the  opportunities  offered  for  scientific  work, 
to  me,  personally,  the  cruise  was  extremely  valuable.  It 

10  was  good  for  me  to  live  under  sharp  discipline;  to  be 
down  on  the  realities  of  existence  by  living  on  bare  neces- 
saries; to  find  out  how  extremely  well  worth  living  life 
seemed  to  be  when  one  woke  up  from  a  night's  rest  on 
a  soft  plank,  with  the  sky  for  canopy  and  cocoa  and 

15  weevily  biscuit  the  sole  prospect  for  breakfast ;  and,  more 
especially,  to  learn  to  work  for  the  sake  of  what  I  got  for 
myself  out  of  it,  even  if  it  all  went  to  the  bottom  and  I 
along  with  it.  My  brother  officers  were  as  good  fellows 
as  sailors  ought  to  be  and  generally  are,  but,  naturally, 

20  they  neither  knew  nor  cared  anything  about  my  pursuits, 
nor  understood  why  I  should  be  so  zealous  in  pursuit  of 
the  objects  which  my  friends,  the  middies,  christened 
"  Buffons,"  after  the  title  conspicuous  on  a -volume  of  the 
Suites  a  Buffon,  which  stood  on  my  shelf  in  the  chart- 

25  room. 

During  the  four  years  of  our  absence,  I  sent  home 
communication  after  communication  to  the  "  Linnean 
Society,"  with  the  same  result  as  that  obtained  by  Noah 
when  he  sent  the  raven  out  of  his  ark.  Tired  at  last  of 

30  hearing  nothing  about  them,  I  determined  to  do  or  die,  and 
in  1849  I  drew  up  a  more  elaborate  paper  and  forwarded 
it  to  the  Royal  Society.  This  was  my  dove,  if  I  had  only 
known  it.  But  owing  to  the  movements  of  the  ship,  I 
heard  nothing  of  that  either  until  my  return  to  England 


Autobiography  13 

in  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1850,  when  I  found  that  it 
was  printed  and  published,  and  that  a  huge  packet  of 
separate  copies  awaited  me.  When  I  hear  some  of  my 
young  friends  complain  of  want  of  sympathy  and  encour- 
agement, I  am  inclined  to  think  that  my  naval  life  was  5 
not  the  least  valuable  part  of  my  education. 

Three  years  after  my  return  were  occupied  by  a  bat- 
tle between  my  scientific  friends  on  the  one  hand  and 
the  Admiralty  on  the  other,  as  to  whether  the  latter  ought, 
or  ought  not,  to  act  up  to  the  spirit  of  a  pledge  they  had  10 
given  to  encourage  officers  who  had  done  scientific  work 
by  contributing  to  the  expense  of  publishing  mine.  At 
last  the  Admiralty,  getting  tired,  I  suppose,  cut  short  the 
discussion  by  ordering  me  to  join  a  ship,  which  thing  I 
declined  to  do,  and  as  Rastignac,  in  the  Pere  Goriot,  says  15 
to  Paris,  I  said  to  London,  "a  nous  deux."  I  desired  to 
obtain  a  professorship  of  either  physiology  or  comparative 
anatomy,  and  as  vacancies  occurred  I  applied,  but  in  vain. 
My  friend,  Professor  Tyndall,  and  I  were  candidates  at 
the  same  time,  he  for  the  chair  of  physics  and  I  for  that  of  20 
natural  history  in  the  University  of  Toronto,  which,  fortu- 
nately, as  it  turned  out,  would  not  look  at  either  of  us. 
I  say  fortunately,  not  from  any  lack  of  respect  for  To- 
ronto, but  because  I  soon  made  up  my  mind  that  London 
was  the  place  for  me,  and  hence  I  have  steadily  declined  25 
the  inducements  to  leave  it,  which  have  at  various  times 
been  offered.  At  last,  in  1854,  on  the  translation  of  my 
warm  friend  Edward  Forbes,  to  Edinburgh,  Sir  Henry  de 
la  Beche,  the  Director-General  of  the  Geological  Survey, 
offered  me  the  post  Forbes  had  vacated  of  Paleontologist  30 
and  Lecturer  on  Natural  History.  I  refused  the  former 
point-blank,  and  accepted  the  latter  only  provisionally,  tell- 
ing Sir  Henry  that  I  did  not  care  for  fossils,  and  that 
I  should  give  up  natural  history  as  soon  as  I  could  get  a 


14  Selections  from  Huxley 

physiological  post.  But  I  held  the  office  for  thirty-one 
years,  and  a  large  part  of  my  work  has  been  paleonto- 
logical. 

At  that  time  I  disliked  public  speaking,  and  had  a  firm 
5  conviction  that  I  should  break  down  every  time  I  opened 
my  mouth.  I  believe  I  had  every  fault  a  speaker  could 
have  (except  talking  at  random  or  indulging  in  rhetoric), 
when  I  spoke  to  the  first  important  audience  I  ever  ad- 
dressed, on  a  Friday  evening  at  the  Royal  Institution,  in 

10  1852.  Yet,  I  must  confess  to  having  been  guilty,  malgre 
moij  of  as  much  public  speaking  as  most  of  my  contempo- 
raries, and  for  the  last  ten  years  it  ceased  to  be  so  much 
of  a  bugbear  to  me.  I  used  to  pity  myself  for  having  to 
go  through  this  training,  but  I  am  now  more  disposed  to 

15  compassionate  the  unfortunate  audiences,  especially  my 
ever  friendly  hearers  at  the  Royal  Institution,  who  were 
the  subjects  of  my  oratorical  experiments. 

The  last  thing  that  it  would  be  proper  for  me  to  do 
would  be  to  speak  of  the  work  of  my  life,  or  to  say  at 

20  the  end  of  the  day  whether  I  think  I  have  earned  my  wages 
or  not.  Men  are  said  to  be  partial  judges  of  themselves. 
Young  men  may  be,  I  doubt  if  old  men  are.  Life  seems 
terribly  foreshortened  as  they  look  back  and  the  mountain 
they  set  themselves  to  climb  in  youth  turns  out  to  be  a 

25  mere  spur  of  immeasurably  higher  ranges  when,  by  failing 
breath,  they  reach  the  top.  [But  if_J  may  speak  of__the_ 
objfcts.J[  have  had_more__pr  Tess  definitely^m  view  since 
Ibegan__the  ascent  of_jnyJiilJockr-they_are__brjefly_  these  ^ 
To  promote  the  increase  of  natural  knowledge  and  to  for- 

30  ward  the  application  of  scientific  methods  of  investigation 
to  all  the  problems  of  life  to  the  best  of  my  ability,  in 
the  conviction  which  has  grown  with  my  growth  and 
strengthened  with  my  strength,  that  there  is  no  alleviation 
for  the  sufferings  of  mankind  except  veracity  of  thought 


Autobiography  15 

and  of  action,  and  the  resolute  facing  of  the  world  as  it  is 
when  the  garment  of  make-believe  by  which  pious  hands 
have  hidden  its  uglier  features  is  stripped  off. 

It   is  with   this  intent   that   I   have   subordinated   any 
reasonable,  or  unreasonable,  ambition  for  scientific  fame  5 
which  I  may  have  permitted  myself  to  entertain  to  other 
ends;  to  the  popularization  of  science;  to  the  development 
and  organization  of  scientific  education;  to  the  endless 
series  of  battles  and  skirmishes  over  evolution;   and   to 
untiring  opposition  to  that  ecclesiastical  spirit,  that  clerical-  10 
ism,  which  in  England,  as  everywhere  else,  and  to  what- 
ever denomination  it  may  belong,  is  the  deadly  enemy  of 
science. 

In  striving  for  the  attainment  of  these  objects,  I  have 
been  but  one  among  many,  and  I  shall  be  well  content  to  15 
be  remembered,  or  even  not  remembered,  as  such.     Cir- 
cumstances,   among   which    I    am   proud    to    reckon    the 
devoted  kindness  of  many  friends,  have  led  to  my  occupa- 
tion of  various  prominent  positions,  among  which  the  presi- 
dency of  the  Royal  Society  is  the  highest.     It  would  be  20 
mock  modesty  on  my  part,  with  these  and  other  scientific 
honors  which  have  been  bestowed  upon  me,  to  pretend 
that  I  have  not  succeeded  in  the  career  which  I  have  fol- 
lowed, rather  because  I  was  driven  into  it  than  of  my 
own  free  will;  but  I  am  afraid  I  should  not  count  even  25 
these  things  as  marks  of  success  if  I  could  not  hope  that  I 
had  somewhat  helped   that  movement  of  opinion  which 
has  been  called  the  New  Reformation. 


LETTERS* 
(1852-1892) 

[To  Miss  Heathorn.  London,  November  13,  1852.  On 
learning  that  the  Royal  Medal  was  to  be  conferred 
upon  him  for  his  paper  on  the  Medusae.] 

Going  last  week  to  the  Royal  Society's  library  for  a 

5  book,  and  like  the  boy  in  church  "  thinkin'  o'  naughten," 

when   I   went   in,   Weld,   the   Assistant   Secretary,   said, 

"  Well,  I  congratulate  you."     I  confess  I  did  not  see  at 

that  moment  what  any  mortal  man  had  to  congratulate 

'me  about.     I  had  a  deuced  bad  cold,  with  rheumatism 

10  in  my  head ;  it  was  a  beastly  November  day  and  I  was  very 
grumpy,  so  I  inquired  in  a  state  of  mild  surprise  what 
might  be  the  matter.  Whereupon  I  learnt  that  the  Medal 
had  been  conferred  at  the  meeting  of  the  Council  on  the 
day  before.  I  was  very  pleased  and  I  thought  you  would 

15  be  so  too,  and  I  thought  moreover  that  it  was  a  fine  lever 
to  help  us  on,  and  if  I  could  have  sent  a  letter  to  you 
immediately  I  should  have  sat  down  and  have  written  one 
to  you  on  the  spot.  As  it  is  I  have  waited  for  official 
confirmation  and  a  convenient  season. 

20  And,  now,  shall  I  be  very  naughty  and  make  a  con- 
fession? The  thing  that  a  fortnight  ago  (before  I  got  it) 
I  thought  so  much  of,  I  give  you  my  word  I  do  not  care 

*  These  letters  are  republished  here  by  permission  of  D.' Apple- 
ton   and    Company. 

16 


Letters  1 7 

a  pin  for.  I  am  sick  of  it  and  ashamed  of  having  thought 
so  much  of  it,  and  the  congratulations  I  get  give  me  a  sort 
of  internal  sardonic  grin.  I  think  this  has  come  about 
partly  because  I  did  not  get  the  official  confirmation  of  what 
I  had  heard  for  some  days,  and  with  my  habit  of  facing  5 
the  ill  side  of  things  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  Weld 
had  made  a  mistake,  and  I  went  in  thought  through  the 
whole  enormous  mortification  of  having  to  explain  to 
those  to  whom  I  had  mentioned  it  that  it  was  quite  a 
mistake.  I  found  that  all  this,  when  I  came  to  look  at  it,  10 
was  by  no  means  so  dreadful  as  it  seemed — quite  bear- 
able in  short — and  then  I  laughed  at  myself  and  have 
cared  nothing  about  the  whole  concern  ever  since.  In 
truth  I  do  not  think  that  I  am  in  the  proper  sense  of  the 
word  ambitious.  I  have  an  enormous  longing  after  the  15 
highest  and  best  in  all  shapes — a  longing  which  haunts 
me  and  is  the  demon  which  ever  impels  me  to  work,  and 
will  let  me  have  no  rest  unless  I  am  doing  his  behests. 
The  honors  of  men  I  value  so  far  as  they  are  evidences 
of  power,  but  with  the  cynical  mistrust  of  their  judg-  20 
ment  and  my  own  worthiness,  which  always  haunts  me, 
I  put  very  little  faith  in  them.  Their  praise  makes  me 
sneer  inwardly.  God  forgive  me  if  I  do  them  any  great 
wrong. 

I  feel  and  know  that  all  the  rewards  and  honors  in  the  25 
world  will  ever  be  worthless  for  me  as  soon  as  they  are 
obtained.     I  know  that  always,  as  now,  they  will  make 
me  more  sad   than  joyful.      I   know   that   nothing  that 
could   be   done   would    give  me   the   pure   and   heartfelt 
joy  and  peace  of  mind  that  your  love  has  given  me,  and,  30 
please  God,  shall  give  for  many  a  long  year  to  come,  and 
yet  my  demon  says  work!  work!  you  shall  not  even  love 
unless  you  work. 

Not  blinded  by  any  vanity,  then;  I  hope,  but  viewing 


1 8  Selections  from  Huxley 

this  stroke  of  fortune  as  respects  its  public  estimation  only, 
I  think  I  must  look  upon  the  award  of  this  medal  as  the 
turning  point  of  my  life,  as  the  finger-post  teaching  me 
as  clearly  as  anything  can  what  is  the  true  career  that 

5  lies  open  before  me.  For  whatever  may  be  my  own 
private  estimation  of  it,  there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the 
general  feeling  about  this  thing,  and  in  case  of  my  candi- 
dature for  any  office  it  would  have  the  very  greatest 
weight.  As  you  will  have  seen  by  my  last  letter,  it  only 

10  strengthens  and  confirms  the  conclusion  I  had  come  to. 
Bid  me  God-speed  then — it  is  all  I  want  to  labor  cheer- 
fully. 

[To  Miss  Heathorn.    London,  November  28,  1852.    On 
the  funeral  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington.] 

15  You  will  hear  all  the  details  of  the  Great  Duke's  state 
funeral  from  the  papers  much  better  than  I  can  tell  you 
them.  I  went  to  the  Cathedral  (St.  Paul's)  and  had  the 
good  fortune  to  get  a  capital  seat — in  front,  close  to 
the  great  door  by  which  every  one  entered.  It  was  bitter 

20  cold,  a  keen  November  wind  blowing  right  in,  and  as  I 
was  there  from  eight  till  three,  I  expected  nothing  less 
than  rheumatic  fever  the  next  day;  however,  I  didn't 
get  it.  It  was  pitiful  to  see  the  poor  old  Marquis  of 
Anglesey — a  year  older  than  the  Duke — standing  with 

25  bare  head  in  the  keen  wind  close  to  me  for  more  than 
three  quarters  of  an  hour.  It  was  impressive  enough — 
the  great  interior  lighted  up  by  a  single  line  of  light 
running  along  the  whole  circuit  of  the  cornice,  and  an- 
other encircling  the  dome,  and  casting  a  curious  illumina- 

30  tion  over  the  masses  of  uniforms  which  filled  the  great 
space.  The  best  of  our  people  were  there  and  passed  close 
to  me,  but  the  only  face  that  made  any  great  impression 


Letters  19 

upon  my  memory  was  that  of  Sir  Charles  Napier,  the 
conqueror  of  Scinde.  Fancy  a  very  large,  broad-winged, 
and  fierce-looking  hawk  in  uniform.  Such  an  eye ! 

When  the  coffin  and  the  mourners  had  passed  I  closed 
up  with  the  soldiers  and  went  up  under  the  dome,  where  5 
I  heard  the  magnificent  service  in  full  perfection. 

All  of  it,  however,  was  but  stage  trickery  compared 
with  the  noble  simplicity  of  the  old  man's  life.  How  the 
old  stoic,  used  to  his  iron  bed  and  hard  hair  pillow,  would 
have  smiled  at  all  the  pomp — submitting  to  that,  how-  10 
ever,  and  all  other  things  necessary  to  the  "  carrying  on 
of  the  Queen's<joi|ernment." 

I  send  Tennyson's  ode  by  way  of  packing — it  is  not 
worth  much  more,  the  only  decent  passages  to  my  mind 
being  those  I  have  marked.  15 

The  day  after  to-morrow  I  go  to  have  my  medal 
presented  and  to  dine  and  make  a  speech. 

[To  Miss  Heathorn.     London,  July  6,   1853.     On  his 
new  aims  and  purposes.] 

I  know  that  these  three  years  have  inconceivably  altered  20 
me — that  from  being  an  idle  man,  only  too  happy  to  flow 
into  the  humors  of  the  moment,  I  have  become  almost 
unable  to  exist  without  active  intellectual  excitement.     I 
know  that  in  this  I  find  peace  and  rest  such  as  I  can 
attain   in   no  other  way.     From   being  a  mere   untried  25 
fledgling,    doubtful   whether   the   wish   to   fly   proceeded 
from  mere  presumption  or  from  budding  wings,  I  have 
now  some  confidence  in  well-tried   pinions,  which  have 
given  me  rank  among  the  strongest  and  foremost.    I  have 
always  felt  how  difficult  it  was  for  you  to  realize  all  30 
this — how  strange  it  must  be  to  you  that  though  your 
image  remained  as  bright  as  ever,  new  interests  and  pur- 


2O  Selections  from  Huxley 

poses  had  ranged  themselves  around  it,  and  though  they 
could  claim  no  preeminence,  yet  demanded  their  share  of 
my  thoughts.  I  make  no  apology  for  this — it  is  man's 
nature  and  the  necessary  influence  of  circumstances  which 
5  will  so  have  it ;  and  depend,  however  painful  our  pres- 
ent separation  may  be,  the  spectacle  of  a  man  who  had 
given  up  the  cherished  purpose  of  his  life,  the  Esau  who 
had  sold  his  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage  and  with  it 
his  self-respect,  would,  before-  long  years  were  over  our 

10  heads,  be  infinitely  more  painful.  Depend  upon  it,  the 
trust  which  you  placed  in  my  hands  when  I  left  you — to 
choose  for  both  of  us — has  not  been  abused.  Hemmed  in 
by  all  sorts  of  difficulties,  my  choice  was  a  narrow  one,  and 
I  was  guided  more  by  circumstances  than  my  own  free 

15  will.  Nevertheless  the  path  has  shown  itself  to  be  a  fair 
one,  neither  more  difficult  nor  less  so  than  most  paths  in 
life  in  which  a  man  of  energy  may  hope  to  do  much  if 
he  believes  in  himself,  and  is  at  peace  within. 

My  course  in  life  is  taken.    I  will  not  leave  London — 

20  I  will  make  myself  a  name  and  position  as  well  as  an 
income  by  some  kind  of  pursuit  connected  with  science, 
which  is  the  thing  for  which  nature  has  fitted  me  if  she 
has  ever  fitted  any  one  for  anything.  Bethink  yourself 
whether  you  can  cast  aside  all  repining  and  doubt,  and 

25  devote  yourself  in  patience  and  trust  to  helping  me  along 
my  path  as  no  one  else  could.  I  know  what  I  ask,  and 
the  sacrifice  I  demand,  and  if  this  were  the  time  to  use 
false  modesty,  I  should  say  how  little  I  have  to  offer  in 
return. 

30      I  am  full  of  faults,  but  I  am  real  and  true,  and  the 

whole  devotion  of  an  earnest  soul  cannot  be  overprized. 

It  is  as  if  all  that  old  life  at  Holmwood  had  merely 

been  a  preparation  for  the  real  life  of  our  love — as  if  we 

were  then  children  ignorant  of  life's  real  purpose — as  if 


Letters  2 1 

these  last  months  had  merely  been  my  old  doubts  over 
again,  whether  I  had  rightly  or  wrongly  interpreted 
the  manner  and  the  words  that  had  given  me  hope. 

We  will  begin  the  new  love  of  woman  and  man,  no 
longer  that  of  boy  and  girl,  conscious  that  we  have  aims  5 
and  purposes  as  well  as  affections,  and  that,  if  love  is 
sweet,  life  is  dreadfully  stern  and  earnest. 

[To  Charles  Darwin.    London,  November  23,  1859.    O° 
The  Origin  of  Species.] 

My    dear    Darwin — I    finished    your   book   yesterday,  10 
a  lucky  examination  having  furnished  me  with  a  few  hours 
of  continuous  leisure. 

Since  I  read  Von  Bar's  essays,  nine  years  ago,  no  work 
on  Natural  History  Science  I  have  met  with  has  made  so 
great  an  impression  upon  me,  and  I  do  most  heartily  thank  15 
you  for  the  great  store  of  new  views  you  have  given  me. 
Nothing,  I  think,  can  be  better  than  the  tone  of  the  book; 
it  impresses  those  who  know  about  the  subject.  As  for 
your  doctrine,  I  am  prepared  to  go  to  the  stake,  if  re- 
quisite, in  support  of  Chapter  IX  and  most  parts  of  20 
Chapters  X,  XI,  XII;  and  Chapter  XIII  contains  much 
that  is  most  admirable,  but  on  one  or  two  points  I  enter  a 
caveat  until  I  can  see  further  into  all  sides  of  the  question. 

As  to  the  first  four  chapters,  I  agree  thoroughly  and 
fully  with  all  the  principles  laid  down  in  them.     I  think  25 
you  have  demonstrated  a  true  cause  for  the  production  of 
species,  and  have  thrown  the  onus  probandi,  that  species 
did  not  arise  in  the  way  you  suppose,  on  your  adversaries. 

But  I   feel  that  I   have  not  yet  by  any  means  fully 
realized  the  bearings  of  those  most  remarkable  and  original  30 
Chapters — III,   IV,  and  V;  and   I   will   write  no  more 
about  them  just   now. 


22  Selections  from  Huxley 

The  only  objections  that  have  occurred  to  me  are — ist, 
That  you  have  loaded  yourself  with  an  unnecessary  diffi- 
culty in  adopting  Natura  non  facit  saltum  so  unreservedly ; 
and  2d,  It  is  not  clear  to  me  why,  if  continual  physical 
5  conditions  are  of  so  little  moment  as  you  suppose,  varia- 
tion should  occur  at  all. 

However,   I  must  read  the  book  two  or  three  times 
more  before  I  presume  to  begin  picking  holes. 

I  trust  you  will  not  allow  yourself  to  be  in  any  way 
10  disgusted  or  annoyed  by  the  considerable  abuse  and  mis- 
representation which,  unless  I  greatly  mistake,  is  in  store 
for  you.     Depend  upon  it,  you  have  earned  the  lasting 
gratitude  of  all   thoughtful  men.     And   as  to  the  curs 
which  will  bark  and  yelp,  you  must  recollect  that  some  of 
15  your  friends,  at  any  rate,  are  endowed  with  an  amount 
of  combativeness  which  (though  you  have  often  and  justly 
rebuked  it)  may  stand  you  in  good  stead. 

I  am  sharpening  up  my  claws  and  beak  in  readiness. 
Looking  back   over  my  letter,   it   really   expresses  so 
20  feebly  all  I  think  about  you  and  your  noble  book,  that  I 
am  half-ashamed  of  it;  but  you  will  understand  that,  like 
the  parrot  in  the  story,  "  I  think  the  more." — Ever  yours 
faithfully,  T.  H.  HUXLEY. 

[To   John   Tyndall.      Naples,   March   31,    1872.     On 

25       Mount  Vesuvius.] 

From  Messina  I  came  on  here,  and  had  the  great  good 
fortune  to  find  Vesuvius  in  eruption.  Before  this  fact 
the  vision  of  good  Bence  Jones  forbidding  much  exertion 
vanished  into  thin  air,  and  on  Thursday  up  I  went  in 
30  company  with  Ray  Lankester  and  my  friend  Dohrn's 
father,  Dohrn  himself  being  unluckily  away.  We  had  a 
glorious  day,  and  did  not  descend  till  late  at  night.  The 


Letters  23 

great  crater  was  not  very  active,  and  contented  itself 
with  throwing  out  great  clouds  of  steam  and  volleys  of 
red-hot  stones  now  and  then.  These  were  thrown  to- 
wards the  south-west  side  of  the  cone,  so  that  it  was 
practicable  to  walk  all  round  the  northern  and  eastern  5 
lip,  and  look  down  into  the  Hell  Gate.  I  wished  you 
were  there  to  enjoy  the  sight  as  much  as  I  did.  No  lava 
was  issuing  from  the  great  crater,  but  on  the  north  side  of 
this,  a  little  way  below  the  top,  an  independent  cone  had 
established  itself  as  the  most  charming  little  pocket- 10 
volcano  imaginable.  It  could  not  have  been  more  than 
loo  feet  high,  and  at  the  top  was  a  crater  not  more  than 
six  or  seven  feet  across.  Out  of  this,  with  a  noise  exactly 
resembling  a  blast  furnace  and  a  slowly-working  high 
pressure  steam  engine  combined,  issued  a  violent  torrent  15 
of  steam  and  fragments  of  semi-fluid  lava  as  big  as  one's 
fist,  and  sometimes  bigger.  These  shot  up  sometimes  as 
much  as  100  feet,  and  then  fell  down  on  the  sides  of  the 
little  crater,  which  could  be  approached  within  fifty  feet 
without  any  danger.  As  darkness  set  in,  the  spectacle  was  20 
most  strange.  The  fiery  stream  found  a  lurid  reflection 
in  the  slowly  drifting  steam  cloud,  which  overhung  it, 
while  the  red-hot  stones  which  shot  through  the  cloud 
shone  strangely  beside  the  quiet  stars  in  a  moonless  sky. 

Not  from  the  top  of  this  cinder  cone,  but  from  its  25 
side,  a  couple  of  hundred  feet  down,  a  stream  of  lava 
issued.     At  first  it  was  not  more  than  a  couple  of  feet 
wide,  but  whether  from   receiving  accessions  or  merely 
from  the  different  form  of  slope,  it  got  wider  on  its  jour- 
ney down  to  the  Atrio  del  Cavallo,  a  thousand  feet  below.  30 
The  slope  immediately  below  the  exit  must  have  been 
near  fifty,  but  the  lava  did  not  flow  quicker  than  very 
thick  treacle  would   do  under  like  circumstances.     And 
there  were  plenty  of  freshly  cooled  lava  streams  about,  in- 


24  Selections  from  Huxley 

clined  at  angles  far  greater  than  those  which  that  learned 
Academician,  Elie  de  Beaumont,  declared  to  be  possible. 
Naturally  I  was  ashamed  of  these  impertinent  lava  cur- 
rents, and  felt  inclined  to  call  them  "  Laves  mous- 
5  seuses." 

Courage,  my  friend,  behold  land !  I  know  you  love  my 
handwriting.  I  am  off  to  Rome  to-day,  and  this  day- 
week,  if  all  goes  well,  I  shall  be  under  my  own  roof-tree 
again.  In  fact  I  hope  to  reach  London  on  Saturday  even- 
10  ing.  It  will  be  jolly  to  see  your  face  again. — Ever  yours 
faithfully,  T.  H.  HUXLEY. 

[To  the  Lord   Mayor  of  London.     Monte  Generoso, 
Switzerland,  June  25,  1889.    On  Louis  Pasteur.] 

My  Lord  Mayor — I  greatly  regret  my  inability  to  be 

15  present  at  the  meeting  which  is  to  be  held,  under  your 
Lordship's  auspices,  in  reference  to  M.  Pasteur  and  his 
Institute.  The  unremitting  labors  of  that  eminent  French- 
man during  the  last  half-century  have  yielded  rich  har- 
vests of  new  truths,  and  are  models  of  exact  and  refined 

20  research.  As  such  they  deserve,  and  have  received,  all  the 
honors  which  those  who  are  the  best  judges  of  their 
purely  scientific  merits  are  able  to  bestow.  But  it  so 
happens  that  these  subtle  and  patient  searchings  out  of 
the  ways  of  the  infinitely  little — of  the  swarming  life 

25  where  the  creature  that  measures  one-thousandth  part 
of  an  inch  is  a  giant — have  also  yielded  results  of  su- 
preme practical  importance.  The  path  of  M.  Pasteur's 
investigations  is  strewed  with  gifts  of  vast  monetary 
value  to  the  silk  trades,  the  brewer,  and  the  wine  mer- 

30  chant.  And  this  being  so,  it  might  well  be  a  proper  and 
graceful  act  on  the  part  of  the  representatives  of  trade 
and  commerce  in  its  greatest  center  to  make  some  public 


Letters  25 

recognition  of  M.  Pasteur's  services,  even  if  there  were 
nothing  further  to  be  said  about  them. 

But  there  is  much  more  to  be  said.  M.  Pasteur's  direct 
and  indirect  contributions  to  our  knowledge  of  the  causes 
of  diseased  states,  and  of  the  means  of  preventing  theirs 
recurrence,  are  not  measurable  by  money  values,  but  by 
those  of  healthy  life  and  diminished  suffering  to  men. 
Medicine,  surgery,  and  hygiene  have  all  been  powerfully 
affected  by  M.  Pasteur's  work,  which  has  culminated 
in  his  method  of  treating  hydrophobia.  I  cannot  con-  10 
ceive  that  any  competently  instructed  person  can  consider 
M.  Pasteur's  labors  in  this  direction  without  arriving 
at  the  conclusion  that,  if  any  man  has  earned  the  praise 
and  honor  of  his  fellows,  he  has.  I  find  it  no  less  difficult 
to  imagine  that  our  wealthy  country  should  be  other  15 
than  ashamed  to  continue  to  allow  its  citizens  to  profit  by 
the  treatment  freely  given  at  the  Institute  without  con- 
tributing to  its  support.  Opposition  to  the  proposals 
which  your  Lordship  sanctions  would  be  equally  incon- 
ceivable if  it  arose  out  of  nothing  but  the  facts  of  the  20 
case  thus  presented.  But  the  opposition  which,  as  I  see 
from  the  English  papers,  is  threatened  has  really  for  the 
most  part  nothing  to  do  either  with  M.  Pasteur's  merits 
or  with  the  efficacy  of  his  method  of  treating  hydrophobia. 
It  proceeds  partly  from  the  fanatics  of  laissez  faire,  who  25 
think  it  better  to  rot  and  die  than  to  be  kept  whole  and 
lively  by  State  interference,  partly  'from  the  blind  oppo- 
nents of  properly  conducted  physiological  experimentation, 
who  prefer  that  men  should  suffer  than  rabbits  or  dogs, 
and  partly  from  those  who  for  other  but  not  less  power-  30 
ful  motives  hate  everything  which  contributes  to  prove 
the  value  of  strictly  scientific  methods  of  inquiry  in  all 
those  questions  which  affect  the  welfare  of  society. 

I  sincerely  trust  that  the  good  sense  of  the  meeting  over 


.26  Selections  from  Huxley 

which  your  Lordship  will  preside  will  preserve  it  from 
being  influenced  by  those  unworthy  antagonisms,  and  that 
the  just  and  benevolent  enterprise  you  have  undertaken 
may  have  a  happy  issue. — I  am,  my  Lord  Mayor,  your 
5  obedient  servant,  THOMAS  H.  HUXLEY. 

[To  John  Tyndall.     Hodeslea,  Eastbourne,  October  15, 
1892.     On  the  funeral  of  Alfred  Tennyson.] 

My  dear  Tyndall — I  think  you  will  like  to  hear  that 
the  funeral  yesterday  lacked  nothing  to  make  it  worthy 
10  of  the  dead  or  the  living. 

Bright  sunshine  streamed  through  the  windows  of  the 
nave,  while  the  choir  was  in  half  gloom,  and  as  each  shaft 
of  light  illuminated  the  flower-covered  bier  as  it  slowly 
traveled  on,  one  thought  of  the  bright  succession  of  his 
15  works   between    the    darkness    before    and    the    darkness 
after.    I  am  glad  to  say  that  the  Royal  Society  was  repre- 
sented by  four  of  its  chief  officers,  and  nine  of  the  com- 
monalty, including  myself.    Tennyson  has  a  right  to  that, 
as  the  first  poet  since  Lucretius  who  has  understood  the 
20  drift  of  science. 

We  have  heard  nothing  of  you  and  your  wife  for 
ages.  Ask  her  to  give  us  news,  good  news,  I  hope,  of 
both. 

My  wife  is  better  than  she  was,  and  joins  with  me  in 
25 love. — Ever  yours  affectionately,          T.  H.  HUXLEY. 

[To  a  young  man.     Hodeslea,  Eastbourne,  November  5, 
1892.     On  choosing  a  profession.] 

Dear  Sir — I  am  very  sorry  that  the  pressure  of  other 
occupations  has  prevented  me  from  sending  an  earlier 
30  reply  to  your  letter. 


Letters  27 

In  my  opinion  a  man's  first  duty  is  to  find  a  way  of 
supporting  himself,  thereby  relieving  other  people  of  the 
necessity  of  supporting  him.  Moreover,  the  learning  to 
do  work  of  practical  value  in  the  world,  in  an  exact  and 
careful  manner,  is  of  itself  a  very  important  education,  the  5 
effects  of  which  make  themselves  felt  in  all  other  pur- 
suits. The  habit  of  doing  that  which  you  do  not  care 
about  when  you  would  much  rather  be  doing  something 
else,  is  invaluable.  It  would  have  saved  me  a  frightful 
waste  of  time  if  I  had  ever  had  it  drilled  into  me  in  youth.  10 

Success  in  any  scientific  career  requires  an  unusual 
equipment  of  capacity,  industry,  and  energy.  If  you  pos- 
sess that  equipment  you  will  find  leisure  enough  after 
your  daily  commercial  work  is  over,  to  make  an  opening 
in  the  scientific  ranks  for  yourself.  If  you  do  not,  you  15 
had  better  stick  to  commerce.  Nothing  is  less  to  be  de- 
sired than  the  fate  of  a  young  man,  who,  as  the  Scotch 
proverb  says,  in  "  trying  to  make  a  spoon  spoils  a  horn," 
and  becomes  a  mere  hanger-on  in  literature  or  in  science, 
when  he  might  have  been  a  useful  and  a  valuable  member  20 
of  Society  in  other  occupations. 

I  think  that  your  father  ought  to  see  this  letter. — 
Yours  faithfully,  T.  H.  HUXLEY. 


ON   THE   ADVISABLENESS    OF   IMPROVING 
NATURAL  KNOWLEDGE 

(1866) 

THIS  time  two  hundred  years  ago — in  the  beginning  of 

January,    1666 — those  of  our  forefathers  who  inhabited 

this  great  and  ancient  city,  took  breath  between  the  shocks 

of  two  fearful  calamities:  one  not  quite  past,  although  its 

5  fury  had  abated ;  the  other  to  come. 

Within  a  few  yards  of  the  very  spot  on  which  we  are 
assembled,  so  the  tradition  runs,  that  painful  and  deadly 
malady,    the   plague,   appeared   in   the   latter   months   of 
1664;  and,  though  no  new  visitor,  smote  the  people  of 
10  England,  and  especially  of  her  capital,  with  a  violence 
unknown   before,   in   the   course   of  the   following  year. 
The  hand  of  a  master  has  pictured  what  happened   in 
those  dismal  months;  and  in  that  truest  of  fictions,  The 
History   of  the  Plague   Year,   Defoe  shows  death,  with 
15  every  accompaniment  of  pain  and  terror,  stalking  through 
the  narrow  streets  of  old   London,   and   changing  their 
busy  hum  into  a  silence  broken  only  by  the  wailing  of  the 
mourners  of  fifty  thousand  dead;  by  the  woful  denuncia- 
tions and  mad  prayers  of  fanatics;  and  by  the  madder 
20  yells  of  despairing  profligates. 

But,  about  this  time  in  1666,  the  death-rate  had  sunk 

to  nearly  its  ordinary  amount;  a  case  of  plague  occurred 

only  here  and  there,  and  the  richer  citizens  who  had  flown 

from   the   pest   had    returned   to   their   dwellings.     The 

25  remnant  of  the  people  began  to  toil  at  the  accustomed  round 

28 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  29 

of  duty,  or  of  pleasure;  and  the  stream  of  city  life  bid 
fair  to  flow  back  along  its  old  bed,  with  renewed  and 
uninterrupted  vigor. 

The  newly  kindled  hope  was  deceitful.  The  great 
plague,  indeed,  returned  no  more;  but  what  it  had  done  5 
for  the  Londoners,  the  great  fire,  which  broke  out  in 
the  autumn  of  1666,  did  for  London;  and,  in  September 
of  that  year,  a  heap  of  ashes  and  the  indestructible  energy 
of  the  people  were  all  that  remained  of  the  glory  of  five- 
sixths  of  the  city  within  the  walls.  10 

Our  forefathers  had  their  own  ways  of  accounting  for 
each  of  these  calamities.  They  submitted  to  the  plague 
in  humility  and  in  penitence,  for  they  believed  it  to  be 
the  judgment  of  God.  But,  towards  the  fire  they  were 
furiously  indignant,  interpreting  it  as  the  effect  of  the  15 
malice  of  man, — as  the  work  of  the  Republicans,  or  of 
the  Papists,  according  as  their  prepossessions  ran  in  favor 
of  loyalty  or  of  Puritanism. 

It  would,  I  fancy,  have  fared  but  ill  with  one  who, 
standing  where  I  now  stand,  in  what  was  then  a  thickly  20 
peopled    and    fashionable   part   of   London,    should    have 
broached  to  our  ancestors  the  doctrine  which  I  now  pro- 
pound to  you — that  all  their  hypotheses  were  alike  wrong; 
that  the  plague  was  no  more,  in  their  sense,  Divine  judg- 
ment, than  the  fire  was  the  work  of  any  political,  or  of  25 
any  religious,   sect;  but  that   they  were   themselves   the 
authors   of   both   plague   and   fire,    and    that   they   must 
look  to  themselves  to  prevent  the  recurrence  of  calamities, 
to  all  appearance  so  peculiarly  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
control — so  evidently  the  result  of  the  wrath  of  God,  or  of  30 
the  craft  and  subtlety  of  an  enemy. 

And  one  may  picture  to  oneself  how  harmoniously  the 
holy  cursing  of  the  Puritan  of  that  day  would  have  chimed 


30  Selections  from  Huxley 

in  with  the  unholy  cursing  and  the  crackling  wit  of 
the  Rochesters  and  Sedleys,  and  with  the  revilings  of  the 
political  fanatics,  if  my  imaginary  plain  dealer  had  gone 
on  to  say  that,  if  the  return  of  such  misfortunes  were  ever 

5  rendered  impossible,  it  would  not  be  in  virtue  of  the  vic- 
tory of  the  faith  of  Laud,  or  of  that  of  Milton;  and,  as 
little,  by  the  triumph  of  republicanism,  as  by  that  of 
monarchy.  But  that  the  one  thing  needful  for  com- 
passing this  end  was,  that  the  people  of  England  should 

10  second  the  efforts  of  an  insignificant  corporation,  the  es- 
tablishment of  which,  a  few  years  before  the  epoch  of  the 
great  plague  and  the  great  fire,  had  been  as  little  noticed, 
as  they  were  conspicuous. 

Some  twenty  years  before  the  outbreak  of  the  plague 

15  a  few  calm  and  thoughtful  students  banded  themselves  to- 
gether for  the  purpose,  as  they  phrased  it,  of  "  improving 
natural  knowledge."  The  ends  they  proposed  to  attain 
cannot  be  stated  more  clearly  than  in  the  words  of  one 
of  the  founders  of  the  organization: — 

20  "  Our  business  was  (precluding  matters  of  theology  and 
state  affairs)  to  discourse  and  consider  of  philosophical 
inquiries,  and  such  as  related  thereunto: — as  Physick, 
Anatomy,  Geometry,  Astronomy,  Navigation,  Staticks, 
Magneticks,  Chymicks,  Mechanicks,  and  Natural  Ex- 

25  periments ;  with  the  state  of  these  studies  and  their  cultiva- 
tion at  home  and  abroad.  We  then  discoursed  of  the 
circulation  of  the  blood,  the  valves  in  the  veins,  the  vense 
lacteae,  the  lymphatic  vessels,  the  Copernican  hypothesis, 
the  nature  of  comets  and  new  stars,  the  satellites  of  Jupi- 

30  ter,  the  oval  shape  (as  it  then  appeared)  of  Saturn,  the 
spots  on  the  sun  and  its  turning  on  its  own  axis,  the  in- 
equalities and  selenography  of  the  moon,  the  several  phases 
of  Venus  and  Mercury,  the  improvement  of  telescopes 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  31 

and  grinding  of  glasses  for  that  purpose,  the  weight  of 
air,  the  possibility  or  impossibility  of  vacuities  and  nature's 
abhorrence  thereof,  the  Torricellian  experiment  'in  quick- 
silver, the  descent  of  heavy  bodies  and  the  degree  of 
acceleration  therein,  with  divers  other  things  of  like  na-  5 
ture,  some  of  which  were  then  but  new  discoveries,  and 
others  not  so  generally  known  and  embraced  as  now  they 
are;  with  other  things  appertaining  to  what  hath  been 
called  the  '  New  Philosophy,'  which,  from  the  times  of 
Galileo  at  Florence,  and  Sir  Francis  Bacon  (Lord  10 
Verulam)  in  England,  hath  been  much  cultivated  in  Italy, 
France,  Germany,  and  other  parts  abroad,  as  well  as  with 
us  in  England." 

The  learned  Dr.  Wallis,  writing  in  1696,  narrates,  in 
these  words,  what  happened  half  a  century  before,   or  15 
about  1645.    The  associates  met  at  Oxford,  in  the  rooms 
of  Dr.  Wilkins,  who  was  destined  to  become  a  bishop; 
and   subsequently  coming  together  in   London,   they  at- 
tracted the  notice  of  the  king.    And  it  is  a  strange  evidence 
of  the  taste  for  knowledge  which  the  most  obviously  worth-  20 
less  of  the  Stuarts  shared  with  his  father  and  grandfather, 
that   Charles   the   Second   was   not  content  with   saying 
witty  things  about  his  philosophers,  but  did  wise  things 
with  regard  to  them.     For  he  not  only  bestowed  upon 
them  such  attention  as  he  could  spare  from  his  poodles  25 
and  his  mistresses,  but,  being  in  his  usual  state  of  im- 
pecuniosity,  begged  for  them  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond; 
and,  that  step  being  without  effect,  gave  them  Chelsea 
College,    a   charter,    and   a   mace:    crowning   his   favors 
in  the  best  way  they  could  be  crowned,  by  burdening  30 
them  no  further  with  royal  patronage  or  state  interference. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  half-dozen  young  men,  studious 
of  the  "  New  Philosophy,"  who  met  in  one  another's  lodg- 
ings in  Oxford  or  in  London,  in  the  middle  of  the  seven- 


32  Selections  from  Huxley 

teenth  century,  grew  in  numerical  and  in  real  strength, 
until,  in  its  latter  part,  the  "  Royal  Society  for  the  Im- 
provement of  Natural  Knowledge  "  had  already  become 
famous,  and  had  acquired  a  claim  upon  the  veneration  of 

5  Englishmen,  which  it  has  ever  since  retained,  as  the 
principal  focus  of  scientific  activity  in  our  islands,  and  the 
chief  champion  of  the  cause  it  was  formed  to  support. 

It  was  by  the  aid  of  the  Royal  Society  that  Newton 
published  his  Prindpia.     If  all  the  books  in  the  world, 

10  except  the  Philosophical  Transactions,  were  destroyed,  it 
is  safe  to  say  that  the  foundations  of  physical  science 
would  remain  unshaken,  and  that  the  vast  intellectual 
progress  of  the  last  two  centuries  would  be  largely,  though 
incompletely,  recorded.  Nor  have  any  signs  of  halting 

15  or  of  decrepitude  manifested  themselves  in  our  own  times. 
As  in  Dr.  Wallis'  days,  so  in  these,  "  our  business  is,  pre- 
cluding theology  and  state  affairs,  to  discourse  and  con- 
sider of  philosophical  inquiries."  But  our  "  Mathematick  " 
is  one  which  Newton  would  have  to  go  to  school  to 

20  learn ;  our  "  Staticks,  Mechanicks,  Magneticks,  Chymicks, 
and  Natural  Experiments"  constitute  a  mass  of  physical 
and  chemical  knowledge,  a  glimpse  at  which  would  com- 
pensate Galileo  for  the  doings  of  a  score  of  inquisitorial 
cardinals;  our  "  Physick  "  and  "  Anatomy  "  have  embraced 

25  such  infinite  varieties  of  being,  have  laid  open  such  new 
worlds  in  time  and  space,  have  grappled,  not  unsuc- 
cessfully, with  such  complex  problems,  that  the  eyes  of 
Vesalius  and  of  Harvey  might  be  dazzled  by  the  sight  of 
the  tree  that  has  grown  out  of  their  grain  of  mustard  seed. 

30  The  fact  is  perhaps  rather  too  much,  than  too  little, 
forced  upon  one's  notice,  nowadays,  that  all  this  mar- 
velous intellectual  growth  has  a  no  less  wonderful  ex- 
pression in  practical  life;  and  that,  in  this  respect,  if 
in  no  other,  the  movement  symbolized  by  the  progress 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  33 

of  the  Royal   Society  stands  without  a  parallel   in   the 
history  of  mankind. 

A  series  of  volumes  as  bulky  as  the  Transactions  of 
the  Royal  Society  might  possibly  be  filled  with  the  subtle 
speculations  of  the  Schoolmen ;  not  improbably,  the  ob-  5 
taining  a  mastery  over  the  products  of  medieval  thought 
might  necessitate  an  even  greater  expenditure  of  time  and 
of  energy  than  the  acquirement  of  the  "  New  Philosophy ; " 
but  though  such  work  engrossed  the  best  intellects  of  Eu- 
rope for  a  longer  time  than  has  elapsed  since  the  great  10 
fire,  its  effects  were  "  writ  in  water,"  so  far  as  our  social 
state  is  concerned. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  the  noble  first  President  of  the 
Royal  Society  could  revisit  the  upper  air  and  once  more 
gladden  his  eyes  with  a  sight  of  the  familiar  mace,  he  15 
would  find  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  material  civilization 
more  different  from  that  of  his  day,  than  that  of  the 
seventeenth,  was  from  that  of  the  first,  century.  And  if 
Lord  Brouncker's  native  sagacity  had  not  deserted  his 
ghost,  he  would  need  no  long  reflection  to  discover  that  20 
all  these  great  ships,  these  railways,  these  telegraphs, 
these  factories,  these  printing-presses,  without  which  the 
whole  fabric  of  modern  English  society  would  collapse 
into  a  mass  of  stagnant  and  starving  pauperism, — that  all 
these  pillars  of  our  State  are  but  the  ripples  and  the  bub-  25 
bles  upon  the  surface  of  that  great  spiritual  stream,  the 
springs  of  which,  only  he  and  his  fellows  were  privileged 
to  see;  and  seeing,  to  recognize  as  that  which  it  behooved 
them  above  all  things  to  keep  pure  and  undefiled. 

It  may  not  be  too   great  a  flight  of  imagination   to  30 
conceive  our  noble  revenant  not  forgetful  of  the   great 
troubles  of  his  own  day,  and  anxious  to  know  how  often 
London  had  been  burned  down  since  his  time,  and  how 
often  the  plague  had  carried  off  its  thousands.     He  would 


34  Selections  from  Huxley 

have  to  learn  that,  although  London  contains  tenfold  the 
inflammable  matter  that  it  did  in  1666;  though,  not  con- 
tent with  filling  our  rooms  with  woodwork  and  light 
draperies,  we  must  needs  lead  inflammable  and  explosive 
5  gases  into  every  corner  of  our  streets  and  houses,  we  never 
allow  even  a  street  to  burn  down.  And  if  he  asked  how 
this  had  come  about,  we  should  have  to  explain  that  the 
improvement  of  natural  knowledge  has  furnished  us  with 
dozens  of  machines  for  throwing  water  upon  fires,  any 

10  one  of  which  would  have  furnished  the  ingenious  Mr. 
Hooke,  the  first  "  curator  and  experimenter  "  of  the  Royal 
Society,  with  ample  materials  for  discourse  before  half 
a  dozen  meetings  of  that  body;  and  that,  to  say  truth, 
except  for  the  progress  of  natural  knowledge,  we  should 

15  not  have  been  able  to  make  even  the  tools  by  which  these 
machines  are  constructed.  And,  further,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  add,  that  although  severe  fires  sometimes 
occur  and  inflict  great  damage,  the  loss  is  very  generally 
compensated  by  societies,  the  operations  of  which  have 

20  been  rendered  possible  only  by  the  progress  of  natural 
knowledge  in  the  direction  of  mathematics,  and  the  accu- 
mulation of  wealth  in  virtue  of  other  natural  knowl- 
edge. 

But  the  plague?     My  Lord  Brouncker's  observation 

25  would  not,  I  fear,  lead  him  to  think  that  Englishmen  of 
the  nineteenth  century  are  purer  in  life,  or  more  fervent 
in  religious  faith,  than  the  generation  which  could  pro- 
duce a  Boyle,  an  Evelyn,  and  a  Milton.  He  might  find 
the  mud  of  society  at  the  bottom,  instead  of  at  the  top, 

30  but  I  fear  that  the  sum  total  would  be  as  deserving  of 
swift  judgment  as  at  the  time  of  the  Restoration.  And 
it  would  be  our  duty  to  explain  once  more,  and  this  time 
not  without  shame,  that  we  have  no  reason  to  believe 
that  it  is  the  improvement  of  our  faith,  nor  that  of  our 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  35 

morals,  which  keeps  the  plague  from  our  city;  but,  again, 
that  it  is  the  improvement  of  our  natural  knowledge. 

We  have  learned  that  pestilences  will  only  take  up  their 
abode  among  those  who  have  prepared  unswept  and  un- 
garnished  residences  for  them.     Their  cities  must  have  5 
narrow,  unwatered  streets,  foul  with  accumulated  garbage. 
Their  houses  must  be  ill-drained,  ill-lighted,  ill-ventilated. 
Their  subjects  must  be  ill-washed,  ill-fed,  ill-clothed.    The, 
London  of  1665  was  such  a  city.    The  cities  of  the  East, 
where  plague  has  an  enduring  dwelling,  are  such  cities.  10 
We,  in  later  times,  have  learned  somewhat  of  Nature, 
and  partly  obey  her.     Because  of  this  partial  improve- 
ment of  our  natural  knowledge  and  of  that   fractional 
obedience,  we  have  no  plague;  because  that  knowledge  is 
still  very  imperfect  and   that  obedience  yet  incomplete,  15 
typhus  is  our  companion  and  cholera  our  visitor.    But  it  is 
not  presumptuous  to  express  the  belief  that,  when  our 
knowledge  is  more  complete  and  our  obedience  the  ex- 
pression of  our  knowledge,  London  will  count  her  centuries 
of  freedom  from  typhus  and  cholera,  as  she  now  gratefully  20 
reckons  her  two  hundred  years  of  ignorance  of  that  plague 
which  swooped  upon  her  thrice  in  the  first  half  of  the 
seventeenth  century. 

Surely,  there  is  nothing  in  these  explanations  which  is 
not  fully  borne  out  by  the  facts?  Surely,  the  principles 25 
involved  in  them  are  now  admitted  among  the  fixed  be- 
liefs of  all  thinking  men?  Surely,  it  is  true  that  our 
countrymen  are  less  subject  to  fire,  famine,  pestilence,  and 
all  the  evils  which  result  from  a  want  of  command  over 
and  due  anticipation  of  the  course  of  Nature,  than  were  30 
the  countrymen  of  Milton;  and  health,  wealth,  and  well- 
being  are  more  abundant  with  us  than  with  them?  But 
no  less  certainly  is  the  difference  due  to  the  improve- 
ment of  our  knowledge  of  Nature,  and  the  extent  to  which 


36  Selections  from  Huxley 

that  improved  knowledge  has  been  incorporated  with  the 
household  words  of  men,  and  has  supplied  the  springs  of 
their  daily  actions. 

Granting  for  a  moment,  then,  the  truth  of  that  which 
5  the  depredators  of  natural  knowledge  are  so  fond  of 
urging,  that  its  improvement  can  only  add  to  the  resources 
of  our  material  civilization ;  admitting  it  to  be  possible  that 
the  founders  of  the  Royal  Society  themselves  looked  for 
no  other  reward  than  this,  I  cannot  confess  that  I  was 

10  guilty  of  exaggeration  when  I  hinted,  that  to  him  who 
had  the  gift  of  distinguishing  between  prominent  events 
and  important  events,  the  origin  of  a  combined  effort 
on  the  part  of  mankind  to  improve  natural  knowledge 
might  have  loomed  larger  than  the  Plague  and  have  out- 

15 shone  the  glare  of  the  Fire;  as  a  something  fraught  with 
a  wealth  of  beneficence  to  mankind,  in  comparison  with 
which  the  damage  done  by  those  ghastly  evils  would 
shrink  into  insignificance. 

It  is  very  certain  that  for  every  victim  slain  by  the 

20  plague,  hundreds  of  mankind  exist  and  find  a  fair  share 
of  happiness  in  the  world,  by  the  aid  of  the  spinning 
jenny.  And  the  great  fire,  at  its  worst,  could  not  have 
burned  the  supply  of  coal,  the  daily  working  of  which,  in 
the  bowels  of  the  earth,  made  possible  by  the  steam  pump, 

25  gives  rise  to  an  amount  of  wealth  to  which  the  millions 
lost  in  old  London  are  but  as  an  old  song. 

But  spinning  jenny  and  steam  pump  are,  after  all,  but 
toys,  possessing  an  accidental  value;  and  natural  knowl- 
edge creates  multitudes  of  more  subtle  contrivances,  the 
30  praises  of  which  do  not  happen  to  be  sung  because  they 
are  not  directly  convertible  into  instruments  for  creating 
wealth.  When  I  contemplate  natural  knowledge  squan- 
dering such  gifts  among  men,  the  only  appropriate  com- 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  37 

parison  I  can  find  for  her  is,  to  liken  her  to  such  a  peasant 
woman  as  one  sees  in  the  Alps,  striding  ever  upward, 
heavily  burdened,  and  with  mind  bent  only  on  her  home; 
but  yet,  without  effort  and  without  thought,  knitting  for 
her  children.  Now  stockings  are  good  and  comfortable  5 
things,  and  the  children  will  undoubtedly  be  much  the 
better  for  them;  but  surely  it  would  be  short-sighted,  to 
say  the  least  of  it,  to  depreciate  this  toiling  mother  as  a 
mere  stocking-machine — a  mere  provider  of  physical  com- 
forts ?  10 

However,  there  are  blind  leaders  of  the  blind,  and  not 
a  few  of  them,  who  take  this  view  of  natural  knowledge, 
and  can  see  nothing  in  the  bountiful  mother  of  humanity 
but  a  sort  of  comfort-grinding  machine.  According  to 
them,  the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge  always  has  15 
been,  and  always  must  be,  synonymous  with  no  more 
than  the  improvement  of  the  material  resources  and  the 
increase  of  the  gratifications  of  men. 

Natural  knowledge  is,  in  their  eyes,  no  real  mother  of 
mankind,  bringing  them  up  with  kindness,  and,  if  need  20 
be,  with  sternness,  in  the  way  they  should  go,  and  instruct- 
ing them  in  all  things  needful  for  their  welfare;  but  a 
sort  of  fairy  godmother,  ready  to  furnish  her  pets  with 
shoes  of  swiftness,  swords  of  sharpness,  and  omnipotent 
Aladdin's   lamps,   so   that   they  may  have   telegraphs   to  25 
Saturn,  and  see  the  other  side  of  the  moon,  and  thank 
God  they  are  better  than  their  benighted  ancestors. 

If  this  talk  were  true,  I,  for  one,  should  not  greatly 
care  to  toil  in  the  service  of  natural  knowledge.  I  think 
I  would  just  as  soon  be  quietly  chipping  my  own  flint  30 
ax,  after  the  manner  of  my  forefathers  a  few  thousand 
years  back,  as  be  troubled  with  the  endless  malady  of 
thought  which  now  infests  us  all,  for  such  reward.  But 
I  venture  to  say  that  such  views  are  contrary  alike  to 


38  Selections  from  Huxley 

reason  and  to  fact.  Those  who  discourse  in  such  fashion 
seem  to  me  to  be  so  intent  upon  trying  to  see  what  is 
above  Nature,  or  what  is  behind  her,  that  they  are  blind 
to  what  stares  them  in  the  face,  in  her. 
5  I  should  not  venture  to  speak  thus  strongly  if  my 
justification  were  not  to  be  found  in  the  simplest  and 
most  obvious  facts, — if  it  needed  more  than  an  appeal 
to  the  most  notorious  truths  to  justify  my  assertion,  that 
the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge,  whatever  direc- 

10  tion  it  has  taken,  and  however  low  the  aims  of  those 
who  may  have  commenced  it — has  not  only  conferred 
practical  benefits  on  men,  but,  in  so  doing,  has  effected 
a  revolution  in  their  conceptions  of  the  universe  and  of 
themselves,  and  has  profoundly  altered  their  modes  of 

15  thinking  and  their  views  of  right  and  wrong.  I  say 
that  natural  knowledge,  seeking  to  satisfy  natural  wants, 
has  found  the  ideas  which  can  alone  still  spiritual  crav- 
ings. I  say  that  natural  knowledge,  in  desiring  to  ascer- 
tain the  laws  of  comfort,  has  been  driven  to  discover  those 

20  of  conduct,  and  to  lay  the  foundations  of  a  new  morality. 

Let  us  take  these  points  separately;  and,  first,  what 
great  ideas  has  natural  knowledge  introduced  into  men's 
minds? 

I  cannot  but  think  that  the  foundations  of  all  natural 

25  knowledge  were  laid  when  the  reason  of  man  first  came 
face  to  face  with  the  facts  of  Nature:  when  the  savage 
first  learned  that  the  fingers  of  one  hand  are  fewer  than 
those  of  both;  that  it  is  shorter  to  cross  a  stream  than 
to  head  it;  that  a  stone  stops  where  it  is  unless  it  be 

30  moved,  and  that  it  drops  from  the  hand  which  lets  it  go  ; 
that  light  and  heat  come  and  go  with  the  sun;  that  sticks 
burn  away  in  fire;  that  plants  and  animals  grow  and  die; 
that  if  he  struck  his  fellow-savage  a  blow  he  would 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  39 

make  him  angry,  and  perhaps  get  a  blow  in  return,  while 
if  he  offered  him  a  fruit  he  would  please  him,  and  per- 
haps receive  a  fish  in  exchange.  When  men  had  acquired 
this  much  knowledge,  the  outlines,  rude  though  they 
were,  of  mathematics,  of  physics,  of  chemistry,  of  biology,  5 
of  moral,  economical,  and  political  science,  were  sketched. 
Nor  did  the  germ  of  religion  fail  when  science  began  to 
bud.  Listen  to  words  which,  though  new,  are  yet  three 
thousand  years  old: — 

"...  When  in  heaven  the  stars  about  the  moon  10 

Look  beautiful,  when  all  the  winds  are  laid, 
And  every  height  comes  out,  and  jutting  peak 
And  valley,  and  the  immeasurable  heavens 
Break  open  to  their  highest,  and  all  the  stars 
Shine,  and  the  shepherd  gladdens  in  his  heart."  *  15 

If  the  half-savage  Greek  could  share  our  feelings  thus 
far,  it  is  irrational  to  doubt  that  he  went  further,  to  find, 
as  we  do,  that  upon  that  brief  gladness  there  follows  a 
certain  sorrow, — the  little  light  of  awakened  human  in- 
telligence shines  so  mere  a  spark  amidst  the  abyss  of  the  20 
unknown  and  unknowable;  seems  so  insufficient  to  do 
more  than  illuminate  the  imperfections  that  cannot  be 
remedied,  the  aspirations  that  cannot  be  realized,  of 
man's  own  nature.  But  in  this  sadness,  this  conscious- 
ness of  the  limitation  of  man,  this  sense  of  an  open  secret  25 
which  he  cannot  penetrate,  lies  the  essence  of  all  religion ; 
and  the  attempt  to  embody  it  in  the  forms  furnished  by 
the  intellect  is  the  origin  of  the  higher  theologies. 

Thus  it  seems  impossible  to  imagine  but  that  the  founda- 
tions of  all  knowledge — secular  or  sacred — were  laid  when  30 
intelligence  dawned,  though  the  superstructure  remained 

*  Need  it  be  said  that  this  is  Tennyson's  English  for  Homer's 
Greek? 


4O  Selections  from  Huxley 

for  long  ages  so  slight  and  feeble  as  to  be  compatible 
with  the  existence  of  almost  any  general  view  respect- 
ing the  mode  of  governance  of  the  universe.  No  doubt, 
from  the  first,  there  were  certain  phenomena  which,  to 
5  the  rudest  mind,  presented  a  constancy  of  occurrence,  and 
suggested  that  a  fixed  order  ruled,  at  any  rate,  among 
them.  I  doubt  if  the  grossest  of  Fetish  worshipers  ever 
imagined  that  a  stone  must  have  a  god  within  it  to  make 
it  fall,  or  that  a  fruit  had  a  god  within  it  to  make  it 

10  taste  sweet.  With  regard  to  such  matters  as  these,  it 
is  hardly  questionable  that  mankind  from  the  first  took 
strictly  positive  and  scientific  views. 

But,  with  respect  to  all  the  less  familiar  occurrences 
which  present  themselves,  uncultured  man,  no  doubt,  has 

15  always  taken  himself  as  the  standard  of  comparison,  as 
the  center  and  measure  of  the  world;  nor  could  he  well 
avoid  doing  so.  And  finding  that  his  apparently  un- 
caused will  has  a  powerful  effect  in  giving  rise  to  many 
occurrences,  he  naturally  enough  ascribed  other  and  greater 

20  events  to  other  and  greater  volitions,  and  came  to  look 
upon  the  world  and  all  that  therein  is,  as  the  product  of  the 
volitions  of  persons  like  himself,  but  stronger,  and  capable 
of  being  appeased  or  angered,  as  he  himself  might  be 
soothed  or  irritated.  Through  such  conceptions  of  the 

25  plan  and  working  of  the  universe  all  mankind  have  passed, 
or  are  passing.  And  we  may  now  consider,  what  has  been 
the  effect  of  the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge  on 
the  views  of  men  who  have  reached  this  stage,  and  who 
have  begun  to  cultivate  -•atural  knowledge  with  no  desire 

30  but  that  of  "  increasing  God's  honor  and  bettering  man's 
estate." 

For  example:  what  could  seem  wiser,  from  a  mere  ma- 
terial point  of  view,  more  innocent,  from  a  theological 
one,  to  an  ancient  people,  than  that  they  should  learn 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  41 

the  exact  succession  of  the  seasons,  as  warnings  for  their 
husbandmen;  or  the  position  of  the  stars,  as  guides  to 
their  rude  navigators?  But  what  has  grown  out  of  this 
search  for  natural  knowledge  of  so  merely  useful  a  char- 
acter? You  all  know  the  reply.  Astronomy, — which  5 
of  all  sciences  has  filled  men's  minds  with  general  ideas 
of  a  character  most  foreign  to  their  daily  experience, 
and  has,  more  than  any  other,  rendered  it  impossible  for 
them  to  accept  the  beliefs  of  their  fathers.  Astronomy, — 
which  tells  them  that  this  so  vast  and  seemingly  solid  earth  10 
is  but  an  atom  among  atoms,  whirling,  no  man  knows 
whither,  through  illimitable  space ;  which  demonstrates 
that  what  we  call  the  peaceful  heaven  above  us,  is  but  that 
space,  filled  by  an  infinitely  subtle  matter  whose  particles 
are  seething  and  surging,  like  the  waves  of  an  angry  sea;  15 
which  opens  up  to  us  infinite  regions  where  nothing  is 
known,  or  ever  seems  to  have  been  known,  but  matter  and 
force,  operating  according  to  rigid  rules ;  which  leads  us  to 
contemplate  phenomena  the  very  nature  of  which  demon- 
strates that  they  must  have  had  a  beginning,  and  that  they  20 
must  have  an  end,  but  the  very  nature  of  which  also  proves 
that  the  beginning  was,  to  our  conceptions  of  time,  in- 
finitely remote,  and  that  the  end  is  as  immeasurably 
distant. 

But  it  is  not  alone  those  who  pursue  astronomy  who  25 
ask  for  bread  and  receive  ideas.     What  more  harmless 
than  the  attempt  to  lift  and  distribute  water  by  pumping 
it;  what  more  absolutely  and   grossly  utilitarian?     But 
out  of  pumps  grew   the  discussions  about   Nature's  ab- 
horrence of  a  vacuum ;  and  then  it  was  discovered  that  30 
Nature  does  not  abhor  a  vacuum,  but  that  air  has  weight ; 
and  that  notion  paved  the  way  for  the  doctrine  that  all 
matter  has  weight,   and  that  the   force  which   produces 
weight  is  co-extensive  with  the  universe, — in  short,   to 


42  Selections  from  Huxley 

the  theory  of  universal  gravitation  and  endless  force. 
While  learning  how  to  handle  gases  led  to  the  discovery 
of  oxygen,  and  to  modern  chemistry,  and  to  the  notion 
of  the  indestructibility  of  matter. 

5  Again,  what  simpler,  or  more  absolutely  practical,  than 
the  attempt  to  keep  the  axle  of  a  wheel  from  heating 
when  the  wheel  turns  round  very  fast?  How  useful 
for  carters  and  gig  drivers  to  know  something  about  this; 
and  how  good  were  it,  if  any  ingenious  person  would 

10  find  out  the  cause  of  such  phenomena,  and  thence  educe 
a  general  remedy  for  them.  Such  an  ingenious  person 
was  Count  Rumford ;  and  he  and  his  successors  have  landed 
us  in  the  theory  of  the  persistence,  or  indestructibility,  of 
force.  And  in  the  infinitely  minute,  as  in  the  infinitely 

IS  great,  the  seekers  after  natural  knowledge,  of  the  kinds 
called  physical  and  chemical,  have  everywhere  found  a 
definite  order  and  succession  of  events  which  seem  never  to 
be  infringed. 

And  how  has  it  fared  with  "Physick"  and  Anatomy? 

20  Have  the  anatomist,  the  physiologist,  or  the  physician, 
whose  business  it  has  been  to  devote  themselves  assidu- 
ously to  that  eminently  practical  and  direct  end,  the  allevia- 
tion of  the  sufferings  of  mankind, — have  they  been  able 
to  confine  their  vision  more  absolutely  to  the  strictly  use- 

25  ful  ?  I  fear  they  are  worst  offenders  of  all.  For  if  the 
astronomer  has  set  before  us  the  infinite  magnitude  of 
space,  and  the  practical  eternity  of  the  duration  of  the 
universe;  if  the  physical  and  chemical  philosophers  have 
demonstrated  the  infinite  minuteness  of  its  constituent 

30 parts,  and  the  practical  eternity  of  matter  and  of  force; 
and  if  both  have  alike  proclaimed  the  universality  of  a 
definite  and  predicable  order  and  succession  of  events, 
the  workers  in  biology  have  not  only  accepted  all  these, 
but  have  added  more  startling  theses  of  their  own.  For,  as 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  43 

the  astronomers  discover  in  the  earth  no  center  of  the  uni- 
verse, but  an  eccentric  speck,  so  the  naturalists  find  man  to 
be  no  center  of  the  living  world,  but  one  amidst  endless 
modifications  of  life;  and  as  the  astronomer  observes  the 
mark  of  practically  endless  time  set  upon  the  arrange-  5 
ments  of  the  solar  system  so  the  student  of  life  finds  the 
records  of  ancient  forms  of  existence  peopling  the  world 
for  ages,  which,  in  relation  to  human  experience,  are  in- 
finite. 

Furthermore,  the  physiologist  finds  life  to  be  as  de- 10 
pendent  for  its  manifestation  on  particular  molecular 
arrangements  as  any  physical  or  chemical  phenomenon; 
and,  wherever  he  extends  his  researches,  fixed  order  and 
unchanging  causation  reveal  themselves,  as  plainly  as  in 
the  rest  of  Nature.  15 

Nor  can  I  find  that  any  other  fate  has  awaited  the 
germ  of  Religion.  Arising,  like  all  other  kinds  of  knowl- 
edge, out  of  the  action  and  interaction  of  man's  mind, 
with  that  which  is  not  man's  mind,  it  has  taken  the  in- 
tellectual coverings  of  Fetishism  or  Polytheism ;  of  Theism  20 
or  Atheism;  of  Superstition  or  Rationalism.  With  these, 
and  their  relative  merits  and  demerits,  I  have  nothing  to 
do ;  but  this  it  is  needful  for  my  purpose  to  say,  that  if  the 
religion  of  the  present  differs  from  that  of  the  past,  it  is 
because  the  theology  of  the  present  has  become  more  25 
scientific  than  that  of  the  past;  because  it  has  not  only 
renounced  idols  of  wood  and  idols  of  stone,  but  begins 
to  see  the  necessity  of  breaking  in  pieces  the  idols  built 
up  of  books  and  traditions  and  fine-spun  ecclesiastical  cob- 
webs :  and  of  cherishing  the  noblest  and  most  human  of  30 
man's  emotions,  by  worship  "  for  the  most  part  of  the 
silent  sort "  at  the  altar  of  the  Unknown  and  Unknow- 
able. 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  new  conceptions  implanted  in 


44  Selections  from  Huxley 

our  minds  by  the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge. 
Men  have  acquired  the  ideas  of  the  practically  infinite 
extent  of  the  universe  and  of  its  practical  eternity;  they 
are  familiar  with  the  conception  that  our  earth  is  but  an 

5  infinitesimal  fragment  of  that  part  of  the  universe  which 
can  be  seen ;  and  that,  nevertheless,  its  duration  is,  as  com- 
pared with  our  standards  of  time,  infinite.  They  have 
further  acquired  the  idea  that  man  is  but  one  of  innumer- 
able forms  of  life  now  existing  in  the  globe,  and  that 

10  the  present  existences  are  but  the  last  of  an  immeasurable 
series  of  predecessors.  Moreover,  every  step  they  have 
made  in  natural  knowledge  has  tended  to  extend  and  rivet 
in  their  minds  the  conception  of  a  definite  order  of  the 
universe — which  is  embodied  in  what  are  called,  by  an 

15  unhappy  metaphor,  the  laws  of  Nature — and  to  narrow 
the  range  and  loosen  the  force  of  men's  belief  in  spon- 
taneity, or  in  changes  other  than  such  as  arise  out  of 
that  definite  order  itself. 

Whether  these  ideas  are  well  or  ill  founded  is  not  the 

20  question.  No  one  can  deny  that  they  exist,  and  have 
been  the  inevitable  outgrowth  of  the  improvement  of  natu- 
ral knowledge.  And  if  so,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that 
they  are  changing  the  form  of  men's  most  cherished  and 
most  important  convictions. 

25  And  as  regards  the  second  point — the  extent  to  which 
the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge  has  remodeled 
and  altered  what  may  be  termed  the  intellectual  ethics  of 
men, — what  are  among  the  moral  convictions  most  fondly 
held  by  barbarous  and  semi-barbarous  people? 

30  They  are  the  convictions  that  authority  is  the  soundest 
basis  of  belief;  that  merit  attaches  to  a  readiness  to 
believe;  that  the  doubting  disposition  is  a  bad  one,  and 
skepticism  a  sin;  that  when  good  authority  has  pro- 


Improving  Natural  Knowledge  45 

nounced  what  is  to  be  believed,  and  faith  has  accepted 
it,  reason  has  no  further  duty.  There  are  many  excellent 
persons  who  yet  hold  by  these  principles,  and  it  is  not  my 
present  business,  or  intention,  to  discuss  their  views.  All 
I  wish  to  bring  clearly  before  your  minds  is  the  unques-  5 
tionable  fact,  that  the  improvement  of  natural  knowledge 
is  effected  by  methods  which  directly  give  the  lie  to  all 
these  convictions,  and  assume  the  exact  reverse  of  each  to 
be  true. 

The  improver  of  natural  knowledge  absolutely  refuses  10 
to  acknowledge  authority,  as  such.     For  him,  skepticism 
is  the  highest  of  duties ;  blind  faith  the  one  unpardon- 
able sin.     And  it  cannot  be  otherwise,   for  every  great 
advance  in  natural  knowledge  has  involved  the  absolute 
rejection    of    authority,    the    cherishing    of    the    keenest  15 
skepticism,  the  annihilation  of  the  spirit  of  blind   faith ; 
and  the  most  ardent  votary  of  science  holds  his  firmest 
convictions,  not  because  the  men  he  most  venerates  hold 
them;  not  because  their  verity  is  testified  by  portents  and 
wonders ;    but   because    his   experience    teaches   him    that  20 
whenever  he  chooses  to  bring  these  convictions  into  con- 
tact  with    their   primary   source,    Nature — whenever   he 
thinks  fit  to  test  them  by  appealing  to  experiment  and 
to  observation — Nature  will  confirm  them.     The  man  of 
science    has   learned    to   believe    in   justification,    not    by  25 
faith,  but  by  verification. 

Thus,  without  for  a  moment  pretending  to  despise 
the  practical  results  of  the  improvement  of  natural  knowl- 
edge, and  its  beneficial  influence  on  material  civilization, 
it  must,  I  think,  be  admitted  that  the  great  ideas,  some  30 
of  which  I  have  indicated,  and  the  ethical  spirit  which  I 
have  endeavored  to  sketch,  in  the  few  moments  which  re- 
mained at  my  disposal,  constitute  the  real  and  permanent 
significance  of  natural  knowledge. 


46  Selections  from  Huxley 

If  these  ideas  be  destined,  as  I  believe  they  are,  to 
be  more  and  more  firmly  established  as  the  world  grows 
older;  if  that  spirit  be  fated,  as  I  believe  it  is,  to  extend 
itself  into  all  departments  of  human  thought,  and  to 
5  become  co-extensive  with  the  range  of  knowledge;  if, 
as  our  race  approaches  its  maturity,  it  discovers,  as  I  be- 
lieve it  will,  that  there  is  but  one  kind  of  knowledge  and 
but  one  method  of  acquiring  it;  then  we,  who  are  still 
children,  may  justly  feel  it  our  highest  duty  to  recognize 
10  the  advisableness  of  improving  natural  knowledge,  and 
so  to  aid  ourselves  and  our  successors  in  their  course  to- 
wards the  noble  goal  which  lies  before  mankind. 


A  LIBERAL  EDUCATION:  AND  WHERE  TO 
FIND  IT 

(1868) 

THE  business  which  the  South  London  Working  Men's 
College  has  undertaken  is  a  great  work;  indeed,  I  might 
say,  that  education,  with  which  that  college  proposes  to 
grapple,  is  the  greatest  work  of  all  those  which  lie  ready 
to  a  man's  hand  just  at  present.  5 

And,  at  length,  this  fact  is  becoming  generally  recog- 
nized. You  cannot  go  anywhere  without  hearing  a  buzz 
of  more  or  less  confused  and  contradictory  talk  on  this 
subject — nor  can  you  fail  to  notice  that,  in  one  point  at 
any  rate,  there  is  a  very  decided  advance  upon  like  dis-  10 
cussions  in  former  days.  Nobody  outside  the  agricul- 
tural interest  now  dares  to  say  that  education  is  a  bad 
thing.  If  any  representative  of  the  once  large  and  power- 
ful party,  which,  in  former  days,  proclaimed  this  opinion, 
still  exists  in  a  semi-fossil  state,  he  keeps  his  thoughts  15 
to  himself.  In  fact,  there  is  a  chorus  of  voices,  almost 
distressing  in  their  harmony,  raised  in  favor  of  the  doc- 
trine that  education  is  the  great  panacea  for  human  trou- 
bles, and  that,  if  the  country  is  not  shortly  to  go  to  the 
dogs,  everybody  must  be  educated.  20 

The  politicians  tell  us,  "  you  must  educate  the  masses 
because  they  are  going  to  be  masters."  The  clergy  join 
in  the  cry  for  education,  for  they  affirm  that  the  people 
are  drifting  away  from  church  and  chapel  into  the  broad- 

47 


48  Selections  from  Huxley 

est  infidelity.  The  manufacturers  and  the  capitalists 
swell  the  chorus  lustily.  They  declare  that  ignorance 
makes  bad  workmen ;  that  England  will  soon  be  unable  to 
turn  out  cotton  goods,  or  steam  engines,  cheaper  than 
5  other  people ;  and  then,  Ichabod !  Ichabod !  the  glory 
will  be  departed  from  us.  And  a  few  voices  are  lifted  up 
in  favor  of  the  doctrine  that  the  masses  should  be  educated 
because  they  are  men  and  women  with  unlimited  capacities 
of  being,  doing,  and  suffering,  and  that  it  is  as  true  now, 

10  as  ever  it  was,  that  the  people  perish  for  lack  of  knowledge. 

These  members  of  the  minority,  with  whom  I  confess 

I  have  a  good  deal  of  sympathy,  are  doubtful  whether 

any  of  the  other  reasons  urged  in  favor  of  the  education 

of  the  people  are  of  much  value — whether,  indeed,  some 

15  of  them  are  based  upon  either  wise  or  noble  grounds  of 
action.  They  question  if  it  be  wise  to  tell  people  that 
you  will  do  for  them,  out  of  fear  of  their  power,  what 
you  have  left  undone,  so  long  as  your  only  motive  was 
compassion  for  their  weakness  and  their  sorrows.  And,  if 

20  ignorance  of  everything  which  it  is  needful  a  ruler  should 
know  is  likely  to  do  so  much  harm  in  the  governing 
classes  of  the  future,  why  is  it,  they  ask  reasonably 
enough,  that  such  ignorance  in  the  governing  classes  of 
the  past  has  not  been  viewed  with  equal  horror? 

25  Compare  the  average  artisan  and  the  average  country 
squire,  and  it  may  be  doubted  if  you  will  find  a  pin  to 
choose  between  the  two  in  point  of  ignorance,  class  feeling, 
or  prejudice.  It  is  true  that  the  ignorance  is  of  a  differ- 
ent sort — that  the  class  feeling  is  in  favor  of  a  different 

30  class,  and  that  the  prejudice  has  a  distinct  flavor  of  wrong- 
headedness  in  each  case — but  it  is  questionable  if  the  one 
is  either  a  bit  better,  or  a  bit  worse,  than  the  other.  The 
old  protectionist  theory  is  the  doctrine  of  trades  unions 
as  applied  by  the  squires,  and  the  modern  trades  unionism 


A  Liberal  Education  49 

is  the  doctrine  of  the  squires  applied  by  the  artisans.  Why 
should  we  be  worse  off  under  one  regime  than  under  the 
other? 

Again,  this  skeptical  minority  asks  the  clergy  to  think 
whether  it  is  really  want  of  education  which  keeps  the  5 
masses  away  from  their  ministrations — whether  the  most 
completely  educated  men  are  not  as  open  to  reproach  on 
this  score  as  the  workmen;  and  whether,  perchance,  this 
may  not  indicate  that  it  is  not  education  which  lies  at 
the  bottom  of  the  matter.  10 

Once  more,  these  people,  whom  there  is  no  pleasing, 
venture  to  doubt  whether  the  glory,  which  rests  upon 
being  able  to  undersell  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  is  a  very 
safe  kind  of  glory — whether  we  may  not  purchase  it  too 
dear;  especially  if  we  allow  education,  which  ought  to  15 
be  directed  to  the  making  of  men,  to  be  diverted  into  a 
process  of  manufacturing  human  tools,  wonderfully  adroit 
in  the  exercise  of  some  technical  industry,  but  good  for 
nothing  else. 

And,   finally,   these   people   inquire   whether   it   is   the  20 
masses  alone  who  need  a  reformed  and  improved  educa- 
tion.   They  ask  whether  the  richest  of  our  public  schools 
might  not  well  be  made  to  supply  knowledge,  as  well  as 
gentlemanly  habits,  a  strong  class  feeling,  and  eminent 
proficiency  in  cricket.    They  seem  to  think  that  the  noble  25 
foundations  of  our  old  universities  are  hardly  fulfilling 
their   functions  in   their  present   posture  of  half-clerical 
seminaries,  half  racecourses,  where  men  are  trained  to  win 
a  senior  wranglership,   or   a   double-first,   as   horses   are 
trained  to  win  a  cup,  with  as  little  reference  to  the  needs  30 
of  after-life  in  the  case  of  the  man  as  in  that  of  the  racer. 
And,   while   as  zealous   for  education   as   the   rest,   they 
affirm   that,   if  the  education  of  the  richer  classes  were 
such  as  to  fit  them  to  be  the  leaders  and  the  governors 


50  Selections  from  Huxley 

of  the  poorer;  and,  if  the  education  of  the  poorer  classes 
were  such  as  to  enable  them  to  appreciate  really  wise 
guidance  and  good  governance;  the  politicians  need  not 
fear  mob-law,  nor  the  clergy  lament  their  want  of  flocks, 
5  nor  the  capitalists  prognosticate  the  annihilation  of  the 
prosperity  of  the  country. 

Such  is  the  diversity  of  opinion  upon  the  why  and  the 
wherefore  of  education.  And  my  hearers  will  be  prepared 
to  expect  that  the  practical  recommendations  which  are 

10  put  forward  are  not  less  discordant.  There  is  a  loud 
cry  for  compulsory  education.  We  English,  in  spite  of 
constant  experience  to  the  contrary,  preserve  a  touching 
faith  in  the  efficacy  of  acts  of  parliament;  and  I  believe 
we  should  have  compulsory  education  in  the  course  of 

15  next  session,  if  there  were  the  least  probability  that  half 
a  dozen  leading  statesmen  of  different  parties  would 
agree  what  that  education  should  be. 

Some  hold  that  education  without  theology  is  worse  than 
none.  Others  maintain,  quite  as  strongly,  that  educa- 

20  tion  with  theology  is  in  the  same  predicament.     But  this 

is  certain,  that  those  who  hold  the  first  opinion  can  by  no 

means  agree  what  theology  should  be  taught;  and  that 

those  who  maintain  the  second  are  in  a  small  minority. 

At  any  rate  "  make  people  learn  to  read,  write,  and 

25  cipher,"  say  a  great  many;  and  the  advice  is  undoubtedly 
sensible  as  far  as  it  goes.  But,  as  has  happened  to  me 
in  former  days,  those  who,  in  despair  of  getting  anything 
better,  advocate  this  measure,  are  met  with  the  objec- 
tion that  it  is  very  like  making  a  child  practise  the  use 

30  of  a  knife,  fork,  and  spoon,  without  giving  it  a  particle 
of  meat.  I  really  don't  know  what  reply  is  to  be  made  to 
such  an  objection. 

But  it  would  be  unprofitable  to  spend  more  time  in 
disentangling,  or  rather  in  showing  up  the  knots  in  the 


A  Liberal  Education  51 

raveled  skein  of  our  neighbors.  Much  more  to  the 
purpose  is  it  to  ask  if  we  possess  any  clue  of  our  own 
which  may  guide  us  among  these  entanglements.  And 
by  way  of ,  a  beginning,  let  us  ask  ourselves — What  is 
education?  Above  all  things,  what  is  our  ideal  of  a  5 
thoroughly  liberal  education? — of  that  education  which, 
if  we  could  begin  life  again,  we  would  give  ourselves — 
of  that  education  which,  if  we  could  mold  the  fates  to 
our  own  will,  we  would  give  our  children.  Well,  I  know 
not  what  may  be  your  conceptions  upon  this  matter,  10 
but  I  will  tell  you  mine,  and  I  hope  I  shall  find  that  our 
views  are  not  very  discrepant. 

Suppose  it  were  perfectly  certain  that  the  life  and 
fortune  of  every  one  of  us  would,  one  day  or  other,  de- 
pend upon  his  winning  or  losing  a  game  at  chess.  Don't  15 
you  think  that  we  should  all  consider  it  to  be  a  primary 
duty  to  learn  at  least  the  names  and  the  moves  of  the 
pieces;  to  have  a  notion  of  a  gambit,  and  a  keen  eye  for 
all  the  means  of  giving  and  getting  out  of  check?  Do 
you  not  think  that  we  should  look  with  a  disapprobation  20 
amounting  to  scorn,  upon  the  father  who  allowed  his  son, 
or  the  state  which  allowed  its  members,  to  grow  up 
without  knowing  a  pawn  from  a  knight? 

Yet  it  is  a  very  plain  and  elementary  truth,  that  the 
life,  the  fortune,  and  the  happiness  of  every  one  of  us,  25 
and,  more  or  less,  of  those  who  are  connected  with  us,  do 
depend  upon  our  knowing  something  of  the  rules  of  a 
game  infinitely  more  difficult  and  complicated  than  chess. 
It  is  a  game  which  has  been  played  for  untold  ages,  every 
man  and  woman  of  us  being  one  of  the  two  players  in  a  30 
game  of  his  or  her  own.     The  chess-board  is  the  world, 
the  pieces  are  the  phenomena  of  the  universe,  the  rules 
of  the  game  are  what  we  call  the  laws  of  Nature.    The 


52  Selections  from  Huxley 

player  on  the  other  side  is  hidden  from  us.  We  know 
that  his  play  is  always  fair,  just,  and  patient.  But  also 
we  know,  to  our  cost,  that  he  never  overlooks  a  mistake, 
or  makes  the  smallest  allowance  for  ignorance.  To  the 
5  man  who  plays  well,  the  highest  stakes  are  paid,  with  that 
sort  of  overflowing  generosity  with  which  the  strong 
shows  delight  in  strength.  Anokone  who  plays  ill  is  check- 
mated— without  haste,  but  without  remorse. 

My  metaphor  will  remind  some  of  you  of  the  famous 

10  picture  in  which  Retzsch  has  depicted  Satan  playing  at 
chess  with  man  for  his  soul.  Substitute  for  the  mocking 
fiend  in  that  picture,  a  calm,  strong  angel  who  is  playing 
for  love,  as  we  say,  and  would  rather  lose  than  win — and 
I  should  accept  it  as  an  image  of  human  life. 

Well,  what  I  mean  by  education  is  learning  the  rules 
of  this  mighty  game,  hi  other  words,  education  is  :the 
instruction  of  the  intellect" in  thg  jaws  of  Nature,  under 
wrnch~TTame  I  include  not  merely  things  and  their  forces, 
but  men  and  their  ways;  and  the  fashioning  of  the  affec- 
jEjonsjancT  of  trie  willTlnto  an  earnest  and  loving  desire 
to  move  in  harmonv"with  trioseTaw's.  For  me  education 
means  neither  more  nor  less  than  this.  Anything  which 
professes  to  call  itself  education  must  be  tried  by  this 
standard,  and  if  it  fails  to  stand  the  test,  I  will  not  call 
it  education,  whatever  may  be  the  force  of  authority,  or  of 
numbers,  upon  the  other  side. 

It  is  important  to  remember  that,  in  strictness,  there 
is  no  such  thing  as  an  uneducated  man.  Take  an  extreme 
case.  Suppose  that  an  adult  man,  in  the  full  vigor  of 

30  his  faculties,  could  be  suddenly  placed  in  the  world,  as 
Adam  is  said  to  have  been,  and  then  left  to  do  a$  he  best 
might.  How  long  would  he  be  left  uneducated  ?  Not  five 
minutes.  Nature  would  begin  to  teach  him,  through  the 
eye,  the  ear,  the  touch,  the  properties  of  objects.  Pain 


A  Liberal  Education  53 

and  pleasure  would  be  at  his  elbow  telling  him  to  do 
this  and  avoid  that;  and  by  slow  degrees  the  man  would 
receive  an  education,  which,  if  narrow,  would  be  thor- 
ough, real,  and  adequate  to  his  circumstances,  though 
there  would  be  no  extras  and  very  few  accomplishments.  5 

And  if  to  this  solitary  man  entered  a  second  Adam, 
or,  better  still,  an  Eve,  a»new  and  greater  world,  that  of 
social  and  moral  phenomena,  would  be  revealed.  Joys 
and  woes,  compared  with  which  all  others  might  seem  but 
faint  shadows,  would  .spring  from  the  new%elations.  Hap-  10 
piness  and  sorrow  woirW  tale  the  place  of  the  coarser 
monitors,  pleasure  and  pain;  but  conduct  would  still  be 
shaped  by  the  observation  of  the  natural  consequences 
of  actions ;  or,  in  other  words,  by  the  laws  or  the  nature  of 
man.  15 

To  every  one  of  us  the  world  was  once  as  fresh  and 
new  as  to  Adam.  And  then,  long  before  we  were  sus- 
ceptible of  any  other  mode  of  instruction,  Nature  took 
us  in  hand,  and  every  minute  of  waking  life  brought  its 
educational  influence,  shaping  our  actions  into  rough  ac-  20 
cordance  with  Nature's  laws,  so  that  we  might  not  be 
ended  untimely  by  too  gross  disobedience.  Nor  should 
I  speak  of  this  process  of  education  as  past,  for  any  one, 
be  he  as  old  as  he  may.  For  every  man,  the  world  is  as 
fresh  as  ij  was  at  the  first  day,  and  as  full  of  untold  25 
novelties  for  him  who  has  the  eyes  to  see  them.  And 
Nature  is  still  continuing  her  patient  education  of  us  in 
that  great  university,  the  universe,  of  which  we  are  all 
members — Nature  having  no  Test-Acts. 

Those  who   take  honors  in   Nature's  university,   who  30 
learn  the  laws  which  govern  men  and  things  and  obey 
them,   are   the   really   great   and   successful   men   in   this 
world.    The  great  mass  of  mankind  are  the  "  Poll,"  who 
pick  up  just  enough  to  get  through  without  much  dis- 


54  Selections  from  Huxley 

credit.  Those  who  won't  learn  at  all  are  plucked;  and 
then  you  can't  come  up  again.  Nature's  pluck  means 
extermination. 

Thus  the  question  of  compulsory  education  is  settled 
5  so  far  as  Nature  is  concerned.  Her  bill  on  that  question 
was  framed  and  passed  long  ago.  But,  like  all  com- 
pulsory legislation,  that  of  Nature  is  harsh  and  wasteful 
in  its  operation.  Ignorance  is  visited  as  sharply  as  wilful 
disobedience — incapacity  meets  with  the  same  punishment 

10  as  crime.  Nature's  discipline  is  not  even  a  word  and  a 
blow,  and  the  blow  first;  but  the  blow  without  the 
word.  It  is  left  to  you  to  find  out  why  your  ears  are 
boxed. 

The  object  of  what  we  commonly  call  education — that 

15  education  in  which  man  intervenes  and  which  I  shall 
distinguish  as  artificial  education — is  to  make  good  these 

r  defects  in  Nature's  methods;  to  prepare  the  child  to  re- 
ceive Nature's  education,  neither  incapably  nor  igno- 
rantly,  nor  with  wilful  disobedience;  and  to  understand 
20  the  preliminary  symptoms  of  her  displeasure,  without 
waiting  for  the  box  on  the  ear.  In  short,  all  artificial 
education  ought  to  be  an  anticipation  of  natural  educa- 
tion. And  a  liberal  education  is  an  artificial  education, 
which  has  not  only  prepared  a  man  to  escape  the  great 
25  evils  of  disobedience  to  natural  laws,  but  has  trained 
him  to  appreciate  and  to  seize  upon  the  rewards,  which 
Nature  scatters  with  as  free  a  hand  as  her  penalties. 

That  man,  I  think,  has  had  a  liberal  education,  who 
has  been  so  trained  in  youth  that  his  body  is  the  ready 
30  servant  of  his  will,  and  does  with  ease  and  pleasure  all 
the  work  that,  as  a  mechanism,  it  is  capable  of;  whose 
intellect  is  a  clear,  cold,  logic  engine,  with  all  its  parts 
of  equal  strength,  and  in  smooth  working  order;  ready, 
like  a  steam  engine,  to  be  turned  to  any  kind  of  work, 


A  Liberal  Education  55 

and  spin  the  gossamers  as  well  as  forge  the  anchors  of 
the  mind;  whose  mind  is  stored  with  a  knowledge  of 
the  great  and  fundamental  truths  of  Nature  and  of  the 
laws  of  her  operations;  one  who,  no  stunted  ascetic,  is 
full  of  life  and  fire,  but  whose  passions  are  trained  to  come  5 
to  heel  by  a  vigorous  will,  the  servant  of  a  tender  con- 
science; who  has  learned  to  love  all  beauty,  whether  of 
Nature  or  of  art,  to  hate  all  vileness,  and  to  respect  others 
as  himself. 

Such  an  one  and  no  other,  I  conceive,  has  had  a  liberal  10 
education;  for  he  is,  as  completely  as  a  man  can  be,  in 
harmony  with  Nature.  He  will  make  the  best  of  her, 
and  she  of  him.  They  will  get  on  together  rarely;  she 
as  his  ever  beneficent  mother;  he  as  her  mouth-piece,  her 
conscious  self,  her  minister  and  interpreter.  15 

Where  is  such  an  education  as  this  to  be  had  ?  Where 
is  there  any  approximation  to  it?  Has  any  one  tried  to 
found  such  an  education?  Looking  over  the  length 
and  breadth  of  these  islands,  I  am  afraid  that  all  these 
questions  must  receive  a  negative  answer.  Consider  our  20 
primary  schools,  and  what  is  taught  in  them.  A  child 
learns : — 

1.  To  read,  write,  and  cipher,  more  or  less  well;  but 
in  a  very  large  proportion  of  cases  not  so  well  as  to  take 
pleasure  in  reading,  or  to  be  able  to  write  the  commonest  25 
letter  properly. 

2.  A  quantity  of  dogmatic  theology,  of  which  the  child, 
nine  times  out  of  ten,  understands  next  to  nothing. 

3.  Mixed  up  with  this,  so  as  to  seem  to  stand  or  fall 
with  it,  a  few  of  the  broadest  and  simplest  principles  of  30 
morality.     This,  to  my  mind,  is  much  as  if  a  man  of 
science  should  make  the  story  of  the  fall  of  the  apple  in 
Newton's    garden    an   integral   part  of   the   doctrine   of 


56  Selections  from  Huxley 

gravitation,  and  teach  it  as  of  equal  authority  with  the 
law  of  the  inverse  squares. 

4.  A  good  deal  of  Jewish  history  and  Syrian  geography, 
and,   perhaps,   a  little   something  about   English   history 

5  and  the  geography  of  the  child's  own  country.  But  I 
doubt  if  there  is  a  primary  school  in  England  in  which 
hangs  a  map  of  the  hundred  in  which  the  village  lies,  so 
that  the  children  may  be  practically  taught  by  it  what 
a  map  means. 

10      5.  A  certain  amount  of  regularity,  attentive  obedience, 
respect  for  others:  obtained  by  fear,  if  the  master  be  in- 
competent or  foolish ;  by  love  and  reverence,  if  he  be  wise. 
So   far  as  this  school   course   embraces  a   training  in 
the  theory  and  practice  of  obedience  to  the  moral  laws 

15  of  Nature,  I  gladly  admit,  not  only  that  it  contains  a 
valuable  educational  element,  but  that,  so  far,  it  deals 
with  the  most  valuable  and  important  part  of  all  educa- 
tion. Yet,  contrast  what  is  done  in  this  direction  with 
what  might  be  done;  with  the  time  given  to  matters  of 

20  comparatively  no  importance ;  with  the  absence  of  any 
attention  to  things  of  the  highest  moment;  and  one  is 
tempted  to  think  of  Falstaff's  bill  and  "  the  halfpenny 
worth  of  bread  to  all  that  quantity  of  sack." 

Let  us  consider  what  a  child  thus  "  educated  "  knows, 

25  and  what  it  does  not  know.  Begin  with  the  most  im- 
portant topic  of  all — morality,  as  the  guide  of  conduct. 
The  child  knows  well  enough  that  some  acts  meet  with 
approbation  and  some  with  disapprobation.  But  it  has 
never,  heard  that  there  lies  in  the  nature  of  things  a 

30  reason  for  every  moral  law,  as  cogent  and  as  well  defined 
as  that  which  underlies  every  physical  law;  that  stealing 
and  lying  are  just  as  certain  to  be  followed  by  evil  con- 
sequences, as  putting  your  hand  in  the  fire,  or  jumping 
out  of  a  garret  window.  Again,  though  the  scholar  may 


A  Liberal  Education  57 

have  been  made  acquainted,  in  dogmatic  fashion,  with 
the  broad  laws  of  morality,  he  has  had  no  training  in 
the  application  of  those  laws  to  the  difficult  problems  which 
result  from  the  complex  conditions  of  modern  civilization. 
Would  it  not  be  very  hard  to  expect  any  one  to  solve  5 
a  problem  in  conic  sections  who  had  merely  been  taught 
the  axioms  and  definitions  of  mathematical  science? 

A  workman  has  to  bear  hard  labor,  and  perhaps  priva- 
tion, while  he  sees  others  rolling  in  wealth,  and  feeding 
their  dogs  with  what  would  keep  his  children  from  starva-  10 
tion.  Would  it  not  be  well  to  have  helped  that  man  to 
calm  the  natural  promptings  of  discontent  by  showing 
him,  in  his  youth,  the  necessary  connection  of  the  moral 
law  which  prohibits  stealing  with  the  stability  of  society — 
by  proving  to  him,  once  for  all,  that  it  is  better  for  his  15 
own  people,  better  for  himself,  better  for  future  genera- 
tions, that  he  should  starve  than  steal?  If  you  have  no 
foundation  of  knowledge,  or  habit  of  thought,  to  work 
upon,  what  chance  have  you  of  persuading  a  hungry 
man  that  a  capitalist  is  not  a  thief  "  with  a  circum-  20 
bendibus"?  And  if  he  honestly  believes  that,  of  what 
avail  is  it  to  quote  the  commandment  against  stealing, 
when  he  proposes  to  make  the  capitalist  disgorge? 

Again,  the  child  learns  absolutely  nothing  of  the  history 
or  the  political  organization  of  his  own  country.  His  25 
general  impression  is,  that  everything  ol  much  importance 
happened  a  very  long  while  ago;  and  that  the  Queen 
and  the  gentlefolks  govern  the  country  much  after  the 
fashion  of  King  David  and  the  elders  and  nobles  of 
Israel — his  sole  models.  Will  you  give  a  man  with  this  30 
much  information  a  vote?  In  easy  times  he  sells  it  for  a 
pot  of  beer.  Why  should  he  not?  It  is  of  about  as 
much  use  to  him  as  a  chignon,  and  he  knows  as  much 
what  to  do  with  it,  for  any  other  purpose.  In  bad  times, 


58  Selections  from  Huxley 

on  the  contrary,  he  applies  his  simple  theory  of  govern- 
ment, and  believes  that  his  rulers  are  the  cause  of  his  suf- 
ferings— a  belief  which  sometimes  bears  remarkable  prac- 
tical fruits. 

5  Least  of  all,  does  the  child  gather  from  this  primary 
"  education "  of  ours  a  conception  of  the  laws  of  the 
physical  world,  or  of  the  relations  of  cause  and  effect 
therein.  And  this  is  the  more  to  be  lamented,  as  the 
poor  are  especially  exposed  to  physical  evils,  and  are 

10  more  interested  in  removing  them  than  any  other  class 
of  the  community.  If  any  one  is  concerned  in  knowing 
the  ordinary  laws  of  mechanics  one  would  think  it  is  the 
hand-laborer,  whose  daily  toil  lies  among  levers  and 
pulleys;  or  among  the  other  implements  of  artisan  work. 

15  And  if  any  one  is  interested  in  the  laws  of  health,  it  is 
the  poor  workman,  whose  strength  is  wasted  by  ill-pre- 
pared food,  whose  health  is  sapped  by  bad  ventilation  and 
bad  drainage,  and  half  whose  children  are  massacred  by 
disorders  which  might  be  prevented.  Not  only  does  our 

20  present  primary  education  carefully  abstain  from  hinting 
to  the  workman  that  some  of  his  greatest  evils  are  trace- 
able to  mere  physical  agencies,  which  could  be  removed 
by  energy,  patience,  and  frugality;  but  it  does  worse — 
it  renders  him,  so  far  as  it  can,  deaf  to  those  who  could 

25  help  him,  and  tries  to  substitute  an  Oriental  submission 
to  what  is  falsely  declared  to  be  the  will  of  God,  for  his 
natural  tendency  to  strive  after  a  better  condition. 

What  wonder,   then,   If  very  recently   an   appeal   has 
been  made  to  statistics  for  the  profoundly  foolish  pur- 

30  pose  of  showing  that  education  is  of  no  good — that  it 
diminishes  neither  misery,  nor  crime,  among  the  masses 
of  mankind?  I  reply,  why  should  the  thing  which  has 
been  called  education  do  either  the  one  or  the  other?  If 
I  am  a  knave  or  a  fool,  teaching  me  to  read  and  write 


A  Liberal  Education  59 

won't  make  me  less  of  either  one  or  the  other — unless 
somebody  shows  me  how  to  put  my  reading  and  writing 
to  wise  and  good  purposes. 

Suppose  any  one  were  to  argue  that  medicine  is  of  no 
use,  because  it  could  be  proved  statistically,  that  the  5 
percentage  of  deaths  was  just  the  same,  among  people 
who  had  been  taught  how  to  open  a  medicine  chest,  and 
among  those  who  did  not  so  much  as  know  the  key  by 
sight.  The  argument  is  absurd;  but  it  is  not  more  pre- 
posterous than  that  against  which  I  am  contending.  The  10 
only  medicine  for  suffering,  crime,  and  all  the  other  woes 
of  mankind,  is  wisdom.  Teach  a  man  to  read  and  write, 
and  you  have  put  into  his  hands  the  great  keys  of  the 
wisdom  box.  But  it  is  quite  another  matter  whether  he 
ever  opens  the  box  or  not.  And  he  is  as  likely  to  poison  15 
as  to  cure  himself,  if,  without  guidance,  he  swallows 
the  first  drug  that  comes  to  hand.  In  these  times  a 
man  may  as  well  be  purblind,  as  unable  to  read — lame,  as 
unable  to  write.  But  I  protest  that,  if  I  thought  the 
alternative  were  a  necessary  one,  I  would  rather  that  20 
the  children  of  the  poor  should  grow  up  ignorant  of 
both  these  mighty  arts,  than  that  they  should  remain 
ignorant  of  that  knowledge  to  which  these  arts  are 
means. 

It   may  be   said    that   all   these   animadversions   may  25 
apply  to  primary  schools,  but  that  the  higher  schools,  at 
any  rate,  must  be  allowed  to  give  a  liberal  education. 
In  fact,  they  professedly  sacrifice  everything  else  to  this 
object. 

Let  us  inquire  into  this  matter.     What  do  the  higher  30 
schools,   those   to   which   the   great   middle  class   of   the 
country  sends  its  children,  teach,  over  and  above  the  in- 
struction given  in  the  primary  schools?    There  is  a  little 


60  Selections  from  Huxley 

more  reading  and  writing  of  English.  But,  for  all  that, 
every  one  knows  that  it  is  a  rare  thing  to  find  a  boy  of 
the  middle  or  upper  classes  who  can  read  aloud  decently, 
or  who  can  put  his  thoughts  on  paper  in  clear  and  gram- 
5  matical  (to  say  nothing  of  good  or  elegant)  language. 
The  "  ciphering "  of  the  lower  schools  expands  into  ele- 
mentary mathematics  in  the  higher;  into  arithmetic,  with 
a  little  algebra,  a  little  Euclid.  But  I  doubt  if  one  boy 
in  five  hundred  has  ever  heard  the  explanation  of  a  rule 

10  of  arithmetic,  or  knows  his  Euclid  otherwise  than  by 
rote. 

Of  theology,  the  middle  class  schoolboy  gets  rather 
less  than  poorer  children,  less  absolutely  and  less  rela- 
tively, because  there  are  so  many  other  claims  upon  his 

15  attention.  I  venture  to  say  that,  in  the  great  majority 
of  cases,  his  ideas  on  this  subject  when  he  leaves  school 
are  of  the  most  shadowy  and  vague  description,  and  asso- 
ciated with  painful  impressions  of  the  weary  hours  spent 
in  learning  collects  and  catechism  by  heart. 

20  Modern  geography,  modern  history,  modern  literature, 
the  English  language  as  a  language;  the  whole  circle 
of  the  sciences,  physical,  moral,  and  social,  are  even  more 
completely  ignored  in  the  higher  than  in  the  lower  schools. 
Up  till  within  a  few  years  back,  a  boy  might  have  passed 

25  through  any  one  of  the  great  public  schools  with  the 
greatest  distinction  and  credit,  and  might  never  so  much 
as  have  heard  of  one  of  the  subjects  I  have  just  men- 
tioned. He  might  never  have  heard  that  the  earth  goes 
round  the  sun;  that  England  underwent  a  great  revolu- 

30  tion  in  1688,  and  France  another  in  1789;  that  there 
once  lived  certain  notable  men  called  Chaucer,  Shake- 
speare, Milton,  Voltaire,  Goethe,  Schiller.  The  first 
might  be  a  German  and  the  last  an  Englishman  for  any- 
thing he  could  tell  you  to  the  contrary.  And  as  for 


A  Liberal  Education  61 

science,  the  only  idea  the  word  would  suggest  to  his  mind 
would  be  dexterity  in  boxing. 

I  have  said  that  this  was  the  state  of  things  a  few 
years  back,  for  the  sake  of  the  few  righteous  who  are 
to  be  found  among  the  educational  cities  of  the  plain.  5 
But  I  would  not  have  you  too  sanguine  about  the  result, 
if  you  sound  the  minds  of  the  existing  generation  of 
public  schoolboys,  on  such  topics  as  those  I  have  men- 
tioned. 

Now  let  us  pause  to  consider  this  wonderful  state  of  10 
affairs;   for  the  time  will  come  when   Englishmen  will 
quote  it  as  the  stock  example  of  the  stolid  stupidity  of 
their   ancestors   in    the   nineteenth    century.      The   most 
thoroughly    commercial    people,    the    greatest    voluntary 
wanderers   and   colonists   the   world   has  ever   seen,   are  15 
precisely  the  middle  classes  of  this  country.     If  there  be 
a  people  which   has   been   busy   making  history   on   the 
great   scale   for  the   last   three   hundred   years — and   the 
most    profoundly    interesting    history — history    which,    if 
it  happened  to  be  that  of  Greece  or  Rome,  we  should  20 
study  with  avidity — it  is  the  English.    If  there  be  a  people 
which,    during    the    same    period,    has    developed    a    re- 
markable literature,  it  is  our  own.     If  there  be  a  nation 
whose    prosperity   depends    absolutely   and    wholly   upon 
their  mastery  over  the  forces  of  Nature,  upon  their  in-  25 
telligent  apprehension  of,  and  obedience  to,  the  laws  of 
the  creation  and  distribution  of  wealth,  and  of  the  stable 
equilibrium  of  the  forces  of  society,   it  is  precisely  this 
nation.     And   yet   this  is  what   these  wonderful   people 
tell  their  sons: — "At  the  cost  of  from  one  to  two  thou-  30 
.sand  pounds  of  our  hard  earned  money,  we  devote  twelve 
of  the  most  precious  years  of  your  lives  to  school.    There 
you  shall  toil,  or  be  supposed  to  toil;  but  there  you  shall 
not  learn  one  single  thing  of  all  those  you  will  most 


62  Selections  from  Huxley 

want  to  know,  directly  you  leave  school  and  enter  upon 
the  practical  business  of  life.  You  will  in  all  probability 
go  into  business,  but  you  shall  not  know  where,  or 
how,  any  article  of  commerce  is  produced,  or  the  dif- 
5  ference  between  an  export  or  an  import,  or  the  meaning 
of  the  word  '  capital.'  You  will  very  likely  settle  in  a 
colony,  but  you  shall  not  know  whether  Tasmania  is  part 
of  New  South  Wales,  or  vice  versa. 

"  Very  probably  you  may  become  a  manufacturer,  but 
10  you  shall  not  be  provided  with  the  means  of  under- 
standing the  working  of  one  of  your  own  steam-engines, 
or  the  nature  of  the  raw  products  you  employ;  and, 
when  you  are  asked  to  buy  a  patent,  you  shall  not  have 
the  slightest  means  of  judging  whether  the  inventor  is 
15  an  impostor  who  is  contravening  the  elementary  prin- 
ciples of  science,  or  a  man  who  will  make  you  as  rich 
as  Croesus. 

"  You  will  very  likely  get  into  the  House  of  Commons. 
You  will  have  to  take  your  share  in  making  laws  which 
20  may  prove  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to  millions  of  men. 
But  you  shall  not  hear  one  word  respecting  the  political 
organization  of  your  country;  the  meaning  of  the  con- 
troversy between  freetraders  and  protectionists  shall  never 
have  been  mentioned  to  you;  you  shall  not  so  much  as 
25  know  that  there  are  such  things  as  economic  laws. 

"  The  mental  power  which  will  be  of  most  importance 
in  your  daily  life  will  be  the  power  of  seeing  things  as 
they  are  without  regard  to  authority;  and  of  drawing 
accurate  general  conclusions  from  particular  facts.  But 
30  at  school  and  at  college  you  shall  know  of  no  source  of 
truth  but  authority;  nor  exercise  your  reasoning  faculty 
upon  anything  but  deduction  from  that  which  is  laid 
down  by  authority. 

"You  will  have  to  weary  your  soul  with  work,  and 


A  Liberal  Education  63 

many  a  time  eat  your  bread  in  sorrow  and  in  bitterness, 
and   you  shall   not  have  learned   to   take  refuge   in   the 
great  source  of  pleasure  without  alloy,  the  serene  resting-    . 
place  for  worn  human  nature, — the  world  of  art." 

Said  I  not  rightly  that  we  are  a  wonderful  people?  5 
I  am  quite  prepared  to  allow,  that  education  entirely  de- 
voted to  these  omitted  subjects  might  not  be  a  completely 
liberal   education.      But   is   an   education   which   ignores 
them  all,  a  liberal  education?     Nay,  is  it  too  much  to 
say  that  the  education  which  should  embrace  these  sub-  10 
jects  and  no  others,  would  be  a  real  education,  though 
an  incomplete  one;  while  an  education  which  omits  them 
is  really  not  an  education  at  all,  but  a  more  or  less  useful 
course  of  intellectual  gymnastics? 

For  what  does  the  middle-class  school  put  in  the  place  15 
of  all   these  things  which  are  left  out?     It  substitutes 
what   is  usually  comprised  under  the  compendious  title 
of    the    "classics" — that    is   to   say,    the   languages,    the 
literature,   and    the   history   of   the   ancient   Greeks   and 
Romans,   and   the  geography  of  so  much  of  the  world  20 
as  was  known  to  these  two  great  nations  of  antiquity. 
Now,   do  not  expect  me  to   depreciate  the  earnest  and 
enlightened    pursuit   of   classical    learning.      I    have   not 
the  least  idea  to  speak  ill  of  such  occupations,  nor  any 
sympathy   with    those   who    run    them    down.      On    the  25 
contrary,  if  my  opportunities  had  lain  in  that  direction, 
there  is  no  investigation  into  which  I  could  have  thrown 
myself  with  greater  delight  than  that  of  antiquity. 

What    science    can    present    greater    attractions    than 
philology?     How  can  a  lover  of  literary  excellence  fail  30 
to  rejoice  in  the  ancient  masterpieces?     And  with  what 
consistency  could  I,  whose  business  lies  so  much  in  the 
attempt  to  decipher  the  past,  and  to  build  up  intelligible 


64  Selections  from  Huxley 

forms  out  of  the  scattered  fragments  of  long-extinct  beings, 
fail  to  take  a  sympathetic,  though  an  unlearned,  interest 
in  the  labors  of  a  Niebuhr,  a  Gibbon,  or  a  Grote? 
Classical  history  is  a  great  section  of  the  paleontology  of 
5  man ;  and  I  have  the  same  double  respect  for  it  as  for 
other  kinds  of  paleontology — that  is  to  say,  a  respect 
for  the  facts  which  it  establishes  as  for  all  facts,  and  a 
still  greater  respect  for  it  as  a  preparation  for  the  dis- 
covery of  a  law  of  progress. 

10  But  if  the  classics  were  taught  as  they  might  be 
taught — if  boys  and  girls  were  instructed  in  Greek  and 
Latin,  not  merely  as  languages,  but  as  illustrations  of 
philological  science;  if  a  vivid  picture  of  life  on  the 
shores  of  the  Mediterranean,  two  thousand  years  ago, 

15  were  imprinted  on  the  minds  of  scholars ;  if  ancient  his- 
tory were  taught,  not  as  a  weary  series  of  feuds  and 
rights,  but  traced  to  its  causes  in  such  men  placed  under 
such  conditions;  if,  lastly,  the  study  of  the  classical  books 
were  followed  in  such  a  manner  as  to  impress  boys  with 

20  their  beauties,  and  with  the  grand  simplicity  of  their 
statement  of  the  everlasting  problems  of  human  life,  in- 
stead of  with  their  verbal  and  grammatical  peculiarities; 
I  still  think  it  as  little  proper  that  they  should  form  the 
basis  of  a  liberal  education  for  our  contemporaries,  as 

25  I  should  think  it  fitting  to  make  that  sort  of  paleontology 
with  which  I  am  familiar,  the  backbone  of  modern 
education. 

It  is  wonderful  how  close  a  parallel  to  classical  train- 
ing could  be  made  out  of  that  paleontology  to  which  I 

30  refer.  In  the  first  place  I  could  get  up  an  osteological 
primer  so  arid,  so  pedantic  in  its  terminology,  so  alto- 
gether distasteful  to  the  youthful  mind,  as  to  beat  the 
recent  famous  production  of  the  head-masters  out  of  the 
field  in  all  these  excellences.  Next,  I  could  exercise  my 


A  Liberal  Education  65 

boys  upon  easy  fossils,  and  bring  out  all  their  powers 
of  memory  and  all  their  ingenuity  in  the  application 
of  my  osteo-grammatical  rules  to  the  interpretation,  or 
construing,  of  those  fragments.  To  those  who  had  reached 
the  higher  classes,  I  might  supply  odd  bones  to  be  built  5 
up  into  animals,  giving  great  honor  and  reward  to  him 
who  succeeded  in  fabricating  monsters  most  entirely  in 
accordance  with  the  rules.  That  would  answer  to  verse- 
making  and  essay-writing  in  the  dead  languages. 

To  be  sure,  if  a  great  comparative  anatomist  were  to  10 
look  at  these  fabrications  he  might  shake  his  head  or 
laugh.  But  what  then?  Would  such  a  catastrophe 
destroy  the  parallel?  What  think  you  would  Cicero,  or 
Horace,  say  to  the  production  of  the  best  sixth  form 
going?  And  would  not  Terence  stop  his  ears  and  run  15 
out  if  he  could  be  present  at  an  English  performance  of 
his  own  plays?  Would  Hamlet,  in  the  mouths  of  a  set 
of  French  actors,  who  should  insist  on  pronouncing  Eng- 
lish after  the  fashion  of  their  own  tongue,  be  more 
hideously  ridiculous?  20 

But  it  will  be  said  that  I  am  forgetting  the  beauty,  and 
the  human  interest,  which  appertain  to  classical  studies. 
To  this  I  reply  that  it  is  only  a  very  strong  man  who 
can  appreciate  the  charms  of  a  landscape,  as  he  is  toiling 
up  a  steep  hill,  along  a  bad  road.  What  with  short-  25 
windedness,  stones,  ruts,  and  a  pervading  sense  of  the 
wisdom  of  rest  and  be  thankful,  most  of  us  have  little 
enough  sense  of  the  beautiful  under  these  circumstances. 
The  ordinary  schoolboy  is  precisely  in  this  case.  He  finds 
Parnassus  uncommonly  steep,  and  there  is  no  chance  of  30 
his  having  much  time  or  inclination  to  look  about  him  till 
he  gets  to  the  top.  And  nine  times  out  of  ten  he  does  not 
get  to  the  top. 

But  if  this  be  a  fair  picture  of  the  results  of  classical 


66  Selections  from  Huxley 

teaching  at  its  best — and  I  gather  from  those  who  have 
authority  to  speak  on  such  matters  that  it  is  so — what  is  to 
be  said  of  classical  teaching  at  its  worst,  or  in  other 
words,  of  the  classics  of  our  ordinary  middle-class 
5  schools?*  I  will  tell  you.  It  means  getting  up  endless 
forms  and  rules  by  heart.  It  means  turning  Latin  and 
Greek  into  English,  for  the  mere  sake  of  being  able  to 
do  it,  and  without  the  smallest  regard  to  the  worth,  or 
worthlessness,  of  the  author  read.  It  means  the  learn- 

10  ing  of  innumerable,  not  always  decent,  fables  in  such  a 
shape  that  the  meaning  they  once  had  is  dried  up  into 
utter  trash;  and  the  only  impression  left  upon  a  boy's 
mind  is,  that  the  people  who  believed  such  things  must 
have  been  the  greatest  idiots  the  world  ever  saw.  And 

15  it  means,  finally,  that  after  a  dozen  years  spent  at  this 
kind  of  work,  the  sufferer  shall  be  incompetent  to  in- 
terpret a  passage  in  an  author  he  has  not  already  got  up; 
that  he  shall  loathe  the  sight  of  a  Greek  or  Latin  book; 
and  that  he  shall  never  open,  or  think  of,  a  classical  writer 

20  again,  until,  wonderful  to  relate,  he  insists  upon  sub- 
mitting his  sons  to  the  same  process. 

These  be  your  gods,  O  Israel!  For  the  sake  of  this 
net  result  (and  respectability)  the  British  father  denies 
his  children  all  the  knowledge  they  might  turn  to  account 

25  in  life,  not  merely  for  the  achievement  of  vulgar  success, 
but  for  guidance  in  the  great  crises  of  human  existence. 
This  is  the  stone  he  offers  to  those  whom  he  is  bound  by 
the  strongest  and  tenderest  ties  to  feed  with  bread. 

If  primary  and   secondary  education  are  in   this  un- 

30  satisfactory  state,  what  is  to  be  said  to  the  universities? 

This  is  an  awful  subject,  and  one  I  almost  fear  to  touch 

*  For  a  justification  of  what  is  here  said  about  these  schools, 
see  that  valuable  book,  Essays  on  a  Liberal  Education. 


A  Liberal  Education  67 

with  my  unhallowed  hands ;  but  I  can  tell  you  what  those 
say  who  have  authority  to  speak. 

The  Rector  of  Lincoln  College,  in  his  lately  published 
valuable  Suggestions  for  Academical  Organization  with 
Especial  Reference  to  Oxford,  tells  us  (p.  127)  : —  5 

"The  colleges  were,  in  their  origin,  endowments,  not 
for  the  elements  of  a  general  liberal  education,  but  for 
the  prolonged  study  of  special  and  professional  faculties 
by  men  of  riper  age.  The  universities  embraced  both  these 
objects.  The  colleges,  while  they  incidentally  aided  in  10 
elementary  education,  were  specially  devoted  to  the  high- 
est learning.  .  .  . 

"  This  was  the  theory  of  the  middle-age  university  and 
the  design  of  collegiate  foundations  in  their  origin.    Time 
and   circumstances   have   brought   about   a  total   change.  15 
The  colleges  no  longer  promote  the  researches  of  science, 
or   direct   professional    study.      Here    and    there   college 
walls  may  shelter  an  occasional  student,  but  not  in  larger 
proportions  than  may  be  found  in  private  life.    Elementary 
teaching  of  youths  under  twenty  is  now  the  only  function  20 
performed  by  the  university,  and  almost  the  only  object 
of  college  endowments.    Colleges  were  homes  for  the  life- 
study  of  the  highest  and  most  abstruse  parts  of  knowl- 
edge.    They  have  become  boarding  schools  in  which  the 
elements    of     the    learned     languages    are     taught     to  25 
youths." 

If  Mr.  Pattison's  high  position,  and  his  obvious  love 
and  respect  for  his  university,  be  insufficient  to  convince 
the  outside  world  that  language  so  severe  is  yet  no  more 
than  just,  the  authority  of  the  Commissioners  who  re-  30 
ported  on  the  University  of  Oxford  in  1850  is  open  to 
no  challenge.  Yet  they  write: — 

"  It  is  generally  acknowledged  that  both  Oxford  and 
the  country  at  large  suffer  greatly  from  the  absence  of  a 


68  Selections  from  Huxley 

body  of  learned  men  devoting  their  lives  to  the  cultivation 
of  science,  and  to  the  direction  of  academical  education. 

"  The   fact   that  so   few  books   of  profound    research 
emanate  from  the  University  of  Oxford,  materially  im- 
5  pairs  its  character  as  a  seat  of  learning,  and  consequently 
its  hold  on  the  respect  of  the  nation." 

Cambridge  can  claim  no  exemption  from  the  reproaches 
addressed  to  Oxford.  And  thus  there  seems  no  escape 
from  the  admission  that  what  we  fondly  call  our  great 

10  seats  of  learning  are  simply  "  boarding  schools  "  for  bigger 
boys;  that  learned  men  are  not  more  numerous  in  them 
than  out  of  them ;  that  the  advancement  of  knowledge  is 
not  the  object  of  fellows  of  colleges;  that,  in  the  philo- 
sophic calm  and  meditative  stillness  of  their  green- 

15  swarded  courts,  philosophy  does  not  thrive,  and  meditation 
bears  few  fruits. 

It  is  my  great  good  fortune  to  reckon  amongst  my 
friends  resident  members  of  both  universities,  who  are 
men  of  learning  and  research,  zealous  cultivators  of 

20  science,  keeping  before  their  minds  a  noble  ideal  of  a 
university,  and  doing  their  best  to  make  that  ideal  a 
reality;  and,  to  me,  they  would  necessarily  typify  the  uni- 
versities, did  not  the  authoritative  statements  I  have 
quoted  compel  me  to  believe  that  they  are  exceptional, 

25  and  not  representative  men.  Indeed,  upon  calm  con- 
sideration, several  circumstances  lead  me  to  think  that 
the  Rector  of  Lincoln  College  and  the  Commissioners 
cannot  be  far  wrong. 

I   believe   there  can   be   no   doubt   that   the   foreigner 

30  who  should  wish  to  become  acquainted  with  the  scientific, 
or  the  literary,  activity  of  modern  England,  would  simply 
lose  his  time  and  his  pains  if  he  visited  our  universities 
with  that  object. 

And,  as  for  works  of  profound  research  on  any  subject, 


A  Liberal  Education  69 

and,  above  all,  in  that  classical  lore  for  which  the  uni- 
versities profess  to  sacrifice  almost  everything  else,  why, 
a  -third-rate,  poverty-stricken  German  university  turns 
out  more  produce  of  that  kind  in  one  year,  than  our  vast 
and  wealthy  foundations  elaborate  in  ten.  5 

Ask  the  man  who  is  investigating  any  question,  pro- 
foundly and  thoroughly — be  it  historical,  philosophical, 
philological,  physical,  literary,  or  theological;  who  is  try- 
ing to  make  himself  master  of  any  abstract  subject  (except, 
perhaps,  political  economy  and  geology,  both  of  which  10 
are  intensely  Anglican  sciences),  whether  he  is  not  com- 
pelled to  read  half  a  dozen  times  as  many  German,  as 
English,  books?  And  whether,  of  these  English  books, 
more  than  one  in  ten  is  the  work  of  a  fellow  of  a  college, 
or  a  professor  of  an  English  university?  15 

Is  this  from  any  lack  of  power  in  the  English  as  com- 
pared with  the  German  mind  ?  The  countrymen  of  Grote 
and  of  Mill,  of  Faraday,  of  Robert  Brown,  of  Lyell,  and 
of  Darwin,  to  go  no  further  back  than  the  contemporaries 
of  men  of  middle  age,  can  afford  to  smile  at  such  a  sug-  20 
gestion.  England  can  show  now,  as  she  has  been  able  to 
show  in  every  generation  since  civilization  spread  over 
the  West,  individual  men  who  hold  their  own  against  the 
world,  and  keep  alive  the  old  tradition  of  her  intellectual 
eminence.  25 

But,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  these  men  are  what  they 
are  in  virtue  of  their  native  intellectual  force,  and  of  a 
strength  of  character  which  will  not  recognize  impedi- 
ments. They  are  not  trained  in  the  courts  of  the  Temple 
of  Science,  but  storm  the  walls  of  that  edifice  in  all  sorts  of  30 
irregular  ways,  and  with  much  loss  of  time  and  power,  in 
order  to  obtain  their  legitimate  positions. 

Our  universities  not  only  do  not  encourage  such  men; 
do  not  offer  them  positions,  in  which  it  should  be  their 


7O  Selections  from  Huxley 

highest  duty  to  do,  thoroughly,  that  which  they  are  most 
capable  of  doing;  but,  as  far  as  possible,  university  train- 
ing shuts  out  of  the  minds  of  those  among  them,  who  'are 
subjected  to  it,  the  prospect  that  there  is  anything  in 
5  the  world  for  which  they  are  specially  fitted.  Imagine 
the  success  of  the  attempt  to  still  the  intellectual  hunger 
of  any  of  the  men  I  have  mentioned,  by  putting  before 
him,  as  the  object  of  existence,  the  successful  mimicry 
of  the  measure  of  a  Greek  song,  or  the  roll  of  Ciceronian 

10  prose !  Imagine  how  much  success  would  be  likely  to 
attend  the  attempt  to  persuade  such  men,  that  the  educa- 
tion which  leads  to  perfection  in  such  elegancies  is  alone 
to  be  called  culture ;  while  the  facts  of  history,  the  process 
of  thought,  the  conditions  of  moral  and  social  existence, 

15  and  the  laws  of  physical  nature,  are  left  to  be  dealt  with 
as  they  may,  by  outside  barbarians! 

It  is  not  thus  that  the  German  universities,  from  being 
beneath  notice  a  century  ago,  have  become  what  they 
are  now — the  most  intensely  cultivated  and  the  most  pro- 

20  ductive  intellectual  corporations  the  world  has  ever  seen. 

The  student  who  repairs  to  them  sees  in  the  list  of 

classes  and  of  professors  a  fair  picture  of  the  world  of 

knowledge.     Whatever  he  needs  to  know  there  is  some 

one  ready  to  teach  him,  some  one  competent  to  discipline 

25 him  in  the  way  of  learning;  whatever  his  special  bent, 
let  him  but  be  able  and  diligent,  and  in  due  time  he  shall 
find  distinction  and  a  career.  Among  his  professors,  he 
sees  men  whose  names  are  known  and  revered  throughout 
the  civilized  world;  and  their  living  example  infects 

30  him  with  a  noble  ambition,  and  a  love  for  the  spirit  of 
work. 

The  Germans  dominate  the  intellectual  world  by  virtue 
of  the  same  simple  secret  as  that  which  made  Napoleon 
the  master  of  old  Europe.  They  have  declared  la  carriere 


A  Liberal  Education  71 

ouverte  aux  talents,  and  every  Bursch  marches  with  a 
professor's  gown  in  his  knapsack.  Let  him  become  a  great 
scholar,  or  man  of  science,  and  ministers  will  compete  for 
his  services.  In  Germany,  they  do  not  leave  the  chance 
of  his  holding  the  office  he  would  render  illustrious  to  the  5 
tender  mercies  of  a  hot  canvass,  and  the  final  wisdom  of  a 
mob  of  country  parsons. 

In  short,  in  Germany,  the  universities  are  exactly  what 
the  Rector  of  Lincoln  and  the  Commissioners  tell  us  the 
English  universities  are  not;  that  is  to  say,  corporations  10 
"  of  learned  men  devoting  their  lives  to  the  cultivation 
of  science,  and  the  direction  of  academical  education." 
They  are  not  "  boarding  schools  for  youths,"  nor  clerical 
seminaries;  but  institutions  for  the  higher  culture  of 
men,  in  which  the  theological  faculty  is  of  no  more  im-  15 
portance,  or  prominence,  than  the  rest;  and  which  are 
truly  "  universities,"  since  they  strive  to  represent  and 
embody  the  totality  of  human  knowledge,  and  to  find 
room  for  all  forms  of  intellectual  activity. 

May  zealous  and  clear-headed  reformers  like  Mr.  Pat-  20 
tison    succeed    in    their    noble    endeavors    to    shape   our 
universities  towards  some  such  ideal  as  this,  without  los- 
ing what  is  valuable  and  distinctive  in  their  social  tone! 
But  until  they  have  succeeded,  a  liberal  education  will 
be  no  more   obtainable  in  our  Oxford   and   Cambridge  25 
Universities  than  in  our  public  schools. 

V 

If  I  am  justified  in  my  conception  of  the  ideal  of  a 
liberal  education;  and  if  what  I  have  said  about  the 
existing  educational  institutions  of  the  country  is  also 
true,  it  is  clear  that  the  two  have  no  sort  of  relation  30 
to  one  another;  that  the  best  of  our  schools  and  the  most 
complete  of  our  university  trainings  give  but  a  narrow, 
one-sided,  and  essentially  illiberal  education — while  the 


72  Selections  from  Huxley 

worst  give  what  is  really  next  to  no  education  at  all. 
The  South  London  Working  Men's  College  could  not 
copy  any  of  these  institutions  if  it  would.  I  am  bold 
enough  to  express  the  conviction  that  it  ought  not  if  it 

5  could. 

For  what  is  wanted  is  the  reality  and  not  the  mere 
name  of  a  liberal  education ;  and  this  College  must  steadily 
set  before  itself  the  ambition  to  be  able  to  give  that  educa- 
tion sooner  or  later.  At  present  we  are  but  beginning, 

10  sharpening  our  educational  tools,  as  it  were,  and,  except 
a  modicum  of  physical  science,  we  are  not  able  to  offer 
much  more  than  is  to  be  found  in  an  ordinary  school. 

Moral  and  social  science — one  of  the  greatest  and  most 
fruitful  of  our  future  classes,  I  hope — at  present  lacks 

15  only  one  thing  in  our  program,  and  that  is  a  teacher.  A 
considerable  want,  no  doubt;  but  it  must  be  recollected 
that  it  is  much  better  to  want  a  teacher  than  to  want 
the  desire  to  learn. 

Further,  we  need  what,  for  want  of  a  better  name, 

20 1  must  call  physical  geography.  What  I  mean  is  that 
which  the  Germans  call  " Erdkunde."  It  is  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  earth,  of  its  place  and  relation  to  other  bodies; 
of  its  general  structure,  and  of  its  great  features — winds, 
tides,  mountains,  plains ;  of  the  chief  forms  of  the  vege- 

25  table  and  animal  worlds,  of  the  varieties  of  man.  It  is  the 
peg  upon  which  the  greatest  quantity  of  useful  and  enter- 
taining scientific  information  can  be  suspended. 

Literature  is  not  upon  the  College  program;  but  I 
hope  some  day  to  see  it  there.  For  literature  is  the 

30  greatest  of  all  sources  of  refined  pleasure,  and  one  of 
the  great  uses  of  a  liberal  education  is  to  enable  us  to 
enjoy  that  pleasure.  There  is  scope  enough  for  the  pur- 
poses of  liberal  education  in  the  study  of  the  rich  treasures 
of  our  own  language  alone.  All  that  is  needed  is  direction, 


A  Liberal  Education  73 

and  the  cultivation  of  a  refined  taste  by  attention  to  sound 
criticism.  But  there  is  no  reason  why  French  and  Ger- 
man should  not  be  mastered  sufficiently  to  read  what 
is  worth  reading  in  those  languages,  with  pleasure  and 
with  profit.  5 

And  finally,  by-and-by,  we  must  have  history;  treated 
not  as  a  succession  of  battles  and  dynasties;  not  as  a 
series  of  biographies;  not  as  evidence  that  Providence  has 
always  been  on  the  side  of  either  Whigs  or  Tories;  but  as 
the  development  of  man  in  times  past,  and  in  other  condi-  10 
tions  than  our  own. 

But,  as  it  is  one  of  the  principles  of  our  College  to  be 
self-supporting,  the  public  must  lead,  and  we  must  follow, 
in  these  matters.  If  my  hearers  take  to  heart  what  I  have 
said  about  liberal  education,  they  will  desire  these  things,  15 
and  I  doubt  not  we  shall  be  able  to  supply  them.  But 
we  must  wait  till  the  demand  is  made. 


ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK 
(1868) 

IF  a  well  were  to  be  sunk  at  our  feet  in  the  midst  of 

the  city  of  Norwich,  the  diggers  would  very  soon  find 

themselves  at  work  in  that  white  substance  almost  too 

soft  to  be  called  rock,  with  which  we  are  all  familiar  as 

5  "  chalk." 

Not  only  here,  but  over  the  whole  county  of  Norfolk, 
the  well-sinker  might  carry  his  shaft  down  many  hundred 
feet  without  coming  to  the  end  of  the  chalk;  and,  on 
the  sea-coast,  where  the  waves  have  pared  away  the  face 
10  of  the  land  which  breasts  them,  the  scarped  faces  of  the 
high  cliffs  are  often  wholly  formed  of  the  same  material. 
Northward,  the  chalk  may  be  followed  as  far  as  York- 
shire; on  the  south  coast  it  appears  abruptly  in  the 
picturesque  western  bays  of  Dorset,  and  breaks  into  the 
15  Needles  of  the  Isle  of  Wight;  while  on  the  shores  of 
Kent  it  supplies  that  long  line  of  white  cliffs  to  which 
England  owes  her  name  of  Albion. 

Were  the  thin  soil  which  covers  it  all  washed  away, 
a  curved  band  of  white  chalk,  here  broader,  and  there 
20  narrower,  might  be  followed  diagonally  across  England 
from  Lulworth  in  Dorset,  to  Flamborough  Head  in 
Yorkshire — a  distance  of  over  280  miles  as  the  crow 
flies. 

From  this  band  to  the  North  Sea,  on  the  east,  and  the 

25  Channel,  on  the  south,   the  chalk  is  largely  hidden  by 

other  deposits;  but,  except  in  the  Weald  of  Kent  and 

74 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  75 

Sussex,    it   enters   into   the  very   foundation   of  all   the 
south-eastern  counties. 

Attaining,  as  it  does  in  some  places,  a  thickness  of 
more  than  a  thousand  feet,  the  English  chalk  must  be 
admitted  to  be  a  mass  of  considerable  magnitude.  Never-  5 
theless,  it  covers  but  an  insignificant  portion  of  the 
whole  area  occupied  by  the  chalk  formation  of  the  globe, 
which  has  precisely  the  same  general  characters  as  ours, 
and  is  found  in  detached  patches,  some  less,  and  others 
more  extensive,  than  the  English.  10 

Chalk  occurs  in  north-west  Ireland;  it  stretches  over 
a  large  part  of  France, — the  chalk  which  underlies  Paris 
being,  in  fact,  a  continuation  of  that  of  the  London 
basin;  it  runs  through  Denmark  and  Central  Europe,  and 
extends  southward  to  North  Africa;  while  eastward,  it  15 
appears  in  the  Crimea  and  in  Syria,  and  may  be  traced 
as  far  as  the  shores  of  the  Sea  of  Aral,  in  Central  Asia. 

If  all  the  points  at  which  true  chalk  occurs  were 
circumscribed,  they  would  lie  within  an  irregular  oval 
about  3,000  miles  in  long  diameter — the  area  of  which  20 
would  be  as  great  as  that  of  Europe,  and  would  many 
times  exceed  that  of  the  largest  existing  inland  sea — the 
Mediterranean. 

Thus  the  chalk  is  no  unimportant  element  in  the 
masonry  of  the  earth's  crust,  and  it  impresses  a  peculiar  25 
stamp,  varying  with  the  conditions  to  which  it  is  exposed, 
on  the  scenery  of  the  districts  in  which  it  occurs.  The 
undulating  downs  and  rounded  coombs,  covered  with 
sweet-grassed  turf,  of  our  inland  chalk  country,  have  a 
peacefully  domestic  and  mutton-suggesting  prettiness,  but  30 
can  hardly  be  called  either  grand  or  beautiful.  But  on 
our  southern  coasts,  the  wall-sided  cliffs,  many  hundred 
feet  high,  with  vast  needles  and  pinnacles  standing  out  in 
the  sea,  sharp  and  solitary  enough  to  serve  as  perches  for 


76  Selections  from  Huxley 

the  wary  cormorant,  confer  a  wonderful  beauty  and 
grandeur  upon  the  chalk  headlands.  And,  in  the  East, 
chalk  has  its  share  in  the  formation  of  some  of  the  most 
venerable  of  mountain  ranges,  such  as  the  Lebanon. 

5      What  is  this  wide-spread  component  of  the  surface  of 
the  earth?  and  whence  did  it  come? 

You  may  think  this  no  very  hopeful  inquiry.  You 
may  not  unnaturally  suppose  that  the  attempt  to  solve 
such  problems  as  these  can  lead  to  no  result,  save  that 

10  of  entangling  the  inquirer  in  vague  speculations,  incapable 
of  refutation  and  of  verification. 

If  such  were  really  the  case,  I  should  have  selected 
some  other  subject  than  a  "piece  of  chalk"  for  my  dis- 
course. But,  in  truth,  after  much  deliberation,  I  have 

15  been  unable  to  think  of  any  topic  which  would  so  well 
enable  me  to  lead  you  to  see  how  solid  is  the  foundation 
upon  which  some  of  the  most  startling  conclusions  of 
physical  science  rest. 

A  great  chapter  of  the  history  of  the  world  is  written 

20  in  the  chalk.  Few  passages  in  the  history  of  man  can 
be  supported  by  such  an  overwhelming  mass  of  direct  and 
indirect  evidence  as  that  which  testifies  to  the  truth  of  the 
fragment  of  the  history  of  the  globe,  which  I  hope  to 
enable  you  to  read,  with  your  own  eyes,  to-night. 

25  Let  me  add,  that  few  chapters  of  human  history  have 
a  more  profound  significance  for  ourselves.  I  weigh  my 
words  well  when  I  assert,  that  the  man  who  should  know 
the  true  history  of  the  bit  of  chalk  which  every  carpenter 
carries  about  in  his  breeches-pocket,  though  ignorant  of  all 

30  other  history,  is  likely,  if  he  will  think  his  knowledge 
out  to  its  ultimate  results,  to  have  a  truer,  and  therefore 
a  better,  conception  of  this  wonderful  universe,  and  of 
man's  relation  to  it,  than  the  most  learned  student  who 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  77 

is  deep-read  in  the  records  of  humanity  and  ignorant  of 
those  of  Nature. 

The  language  of  the  chalk  is  not  hard  to  learn,  not 
nearly  so  hard  as  Latin,  if  you  only  want  to  get  at  the 
broad   features  of  the  story  it  has  to  tell;  and   I   pro-  5 
pose  that  we  now  set  to  work  to  spell  that  story  out 
together. 

We  all  know  that  if  we  "  burn "  chalk  the  result  is 
quicklime.     Chalk,   in   fact,   is  a  compound  of  carbonic 
acid  gas,  and  lime,  and  when  you  make  it  very  hot  the  10 
carbonic  acid  flies  away  and  the  lime  is  left. 

By  this  method  of  procedure  we  see  the  lime,  but  we 
do  not  see  the  carbonic  acid.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  you 
were  to  powder  a  little  chalk  and  drop  it  into  a  good 
deal  of  strong  vinegar,  there  would  be  a  great  bubbling  15 
and  fizzing,  and,  finally,  a  clear  liquid,  in  which  no  sign 
of  chalk  would  appear.  Here  you  see  the  carbonic  acid 
in  the  bubbles;  the  lime,  dissolved  in  the  vinegar,  vanishes 
from  sight.  There  are  a  great  many  other  ways  of  show- 
ing that  chalk  is  essentially  nothing  but  carbonic  acid  and  20 
quicklime.  Chemists  enunciate  the  result  of  all  the  ex- 
periments which  prove  this,  by  stating  that  chalk  is  almost 
wholly  composed  of  "  carbonate  of  lime." 

It  is  desirable  for  us  to  start  from  the  knowledge  of 
this  fact,  though  it  may  not  seem  to  help  us  very  far  25 
towards  what  we  seek.  For  carbonate  of  lime  is  a  widely- 
spread  substance,  and  is  met  with  under  very  various 
conditions.  All  sorts  of  limestones  are  composed  of  more 
or  less  pure  carbonate  of  lime.  The  crust  which  is  often 
deposited  by  waters  which  have  drained  through  limestone  30 
rocks,  in  the  form  of  what  are  called  stalagmites  and 
stalactites,  is  carbonate  of  lime.  Or,  to  take  a  more 
familiar  example,  the  fur  on  the  inside  of  the  teakettle 
is  carbonate  of  lime;  and,  for  anything  chemistry  tells  us, 


78  Selections  from  Huxley 

to  the  contrary,  the  chalk  might  be  a  kind  of  gigantic  fur 
upon  the  bottom  of  the  earth-kettle,  which  is  kept  pretty 
hot  below. 

Let  us  try  another  method  of  making  the  chalk  tell 
5  us  its  own  history.  To  the  unassisted  eye  chalk  looks 
simply  like  a  very  loose  and  open  kind  of  stone.  But 
it  is  possible  to  grind  a  slice  of  chalk  down  so  thin  that 
you  can  see  through  it — until  it  is  thin  enough,  in  fact, 
to  be  examined  with  any  magnifying  power  that  may 

10  be  thought  desirable.    A  thin  slice  of  the  fur  of  a  kettle 

might  be  made  in  the  same  way.     If  it  were  examined 

microscopically,  it  would  show  itself  to  be  more  or  less 

distinctly  laminated  mineral  substance  and  nothing  more. 

But    the    slice    of    chalk    presents    a    totally    different 

15  appearance  when  placed  under  the  microscope.  The 
general  mass  of  it  is  made  up  of  very  minute  granules; 
but,  imbedded  in  this  matrix,  are  innumerable  bodies, 
some  smaller  and  some  larger,  but,  on  a  rough  average, 
not  more  than  a  hundredth  of  an  inch  in  diameter, 

20  having  a  well-defined  shape  and  structure.  A  cubic  inch 
of  some  specimens  of  chalk  may  contain  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  these  bodies,  compacted  together  with  incal- 
culable millions  of  the  granules. 

The  examination  of  a  transparent  slice  gives  a  good 

25  notion  of  the  manner  in  which  the  components  of  the 
chalk  are  arranged,  and  of  their  relative  proportions. 
But,  by  rubbing  up  some  chalk  with  a  brush  in  water 
and  then  pouring  off  the  milky  fluid,  so  as  to  obtain 
sediments  of  different  degrees  of  fineness,  the  granules 

30  and  the  minute  rounded  bodies  may  be  pretty  well  sepa- 
rated from  one  another,  and  submitted  to  microscopic 
examination,  either  as  opaque  or  as  transparent  objects. 
By  combining  the  views  obtained  in  these  various  methods, 
each  of  the  rounded  bodies  may  be  proved  to  be  a  beau- 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  79 

tifully-constructed  calcareous  fabric,  made  up  of  a  num- 
ber of  chambers,  communicating  freely  with  one  another. 
The  chambered  bodies  are  of  various  forms.  One  of  the 
commonest  is  something  like  a  badly-grown  raspberry, 
being  formed  of  a  number  of  nearly  globular  chambers  5 
of  different  sizes  congregated  together.  It  is  called 
Globigerina,  and  some  specimens  of  chalk  consist  of  little 
else  than  Globigerina  and  granules. 

Let  us  fix  our  attention  upon  the  Globigerina.     It  is 
the  spoor  of  the  game  we  are  tracking.     If  we  can  learn  10 
what  it  is  and  what  are  the  conditions  of  its  existence, 
we  shall  see  our  way  to  the  origin  and  past  history  of 
the  chalk. 

A  suggestion  which  may  naturally  enough  present  itself 
is,  that  these  curious  bodies  are  the  result  of  some  process  15 
of  aggregation  which  has  taken  place  in  the  carbonate 
of  lime;  that,  just  as  in  winter  the  rime  on  our  windows 
simulates  the  most  delicate  and  elegantly  arborescent 
foliage — proving  that  the  mere  mineral  water  may,  under 
certain  conditions,  assume  the  outward  form  of  organic  20 
bodies — so  this  mineral  substance,  carbonate  of  lime,  hid- 
den away  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  has  taken  the  shape 
of  these  chambered  bodies.  I  am  not  raising  a  merely 
fanciful  and  unreal  objection.  Very  learned  men,  in 
former  days,  have  even  entertained  the  notion  that  all  25 
the  formed  things  found  in  rocks  are  of  this  nature;  and 
if  no  such  conception  is  at  present  held  to  be  admissible, 
it  is  because  long  and  varied  experience  has  now  shown 
that  mineral  matter  never  does  assume  the  form  and 
structure  we  find  in  fossils.  If  any  one  were  to  try  to  30 
persuade  you  that  an  oyster-shell  (which  is  also  chiefly 
composed  of  carbonate  of  lime)  had  crystallized  out  of 
sea-water,  I  suppose  you  would  laugh  at  the  absurdity. 
Your  laughter  would  be  justified  by  the  fact  that  all  ex- 


8o  Selections  from  Huxley 

perience  tends  to  show  that  oyster-shells  are  formed  by 
the  agency  of  oysters,  and  in  no  other  way.  And  if  there 
were  no  better  reasons,  we  should  be  justified,  on  like 
grounds,  in  believing  that  Globigerina  is  not  the  product 
5  of  anything  but  vital  activity. 

Happily,  however,  better  evidence  in  proof  of  the  or- 
ganic nature  of  the  Globigerina  than  that  of  analogy 
is  forthcoming.  It  so  happens  that  calcareous  skeletons, 
exactly  similar  to  the  Globigerina  of  the  chalk,  are  being 

10  formed,  at  the  present  moment,  by  minute  living  creatures, 

which  flourish  in  multitudes,  literally  more  numerous  than 

the  sands  of  the  sea-shore,  over  a  large  extent  of  that  part 

of  the  earth's  surface  which  is  covered  by  the  ocean. 

The   history  of  the   discovery  of  these   living   Globi- 

15  gerince,  and  of  the  part  which  they  play  in  rock  building, 
is  singular  enough.  It  is  a  discovery  which,  like  others 
of  no  less  scientific  importance,  has  arisen,  incidentally,  out 
of  work  devoted  to  very  different  and  exceedingly  prac- 
tical interests. 

20  When  men  first  took  to  the  sea,  they  speedily  learned 
to  look  out  for  shoals  and  rocks;  and  the  more  the 
burthen  of  their  ships  increased,  the  more  imperatively 
necessary  it  became  for  sailors  to  ascertain  with  precision 
the  depth  of  the  waters  they  traversed.  Out  of  this 

25  necessity  grew  the  use  of  the  lead  and  sounding  line ;  and, 
ultimately,  marine-surveying,  which  is  the  recording  of 
the  form  of  coasts  and  of  the  depth  of  the  sea,  as  ascer- 
tained by  the  sounding-lead,  upon  charts. 

At   the   same   time,    it   became   desirable    to   ascertain 

30  and  to  indicate  the  nature  of  the  sea-bottom,  since  this 
circumstance  greatly  affects  its  goodness  as  holding  ground 
for  anchors.  Some  ingenious  tar,  whose  name  deserves 
a  better  fate  than  the  oblivion  into  which  it  has  fallen, 
attained  this  object  by  "arming"  the  bottom  of  the  lead 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  81 

• 
with  a  lump  of  grease,  to  which  more  or  less  of  the  sand 

or  mud,  or  broken  shells,  as  the  case  might  be,  adhered, 
and   was   brought   to   the   surface.      But,    however  well 
adapted  such  an  apparatus  might  be  for  rough  nautical 
purposes,  scientific  accuracy  could  not  be  expected  from  5 
the   armed   lead,   and   to   remedy   its   defects    (especially 
when  applied  to  sounding  in  great  depths)  Lieut.  Brooke, 
of  the  American  Navy,  some  years  ago  invented  a  most 
ingenious  machine,  by  which  a  considerable  portion  of  the 
superficial  layer  of  the  sea-bottom  can  be  scooped  out  and  10 
brought  up,  from  any  depth  to  which  the  lead  descends. 

In  1853,  Lieut.  Brooke  obtained  mud  from  the  bottom 
of  the  North  Atlantic,  between  Newfoundland  and  the 
Azores,   at  a  depth  of  more  than    10,000  feet,  or  two 
miles,    by    the    help    of   this   sounding   apparatus.      The  15 
specimens  were   sent   for   examination   to   Ehrenberg   of 
Berlin,  and  to  Bailey  of  West  Point,  and  those  able  micros- 
copists  found  that  this  deep-sea  mud  was  almost  entirely 
composed  of  the  skeletons  of  living  organisms — the  greater 
proportion  of  these  being  just  like  the  Globigerina  already  20 
known  to  occur  in  the  chalk. 

Thus  far,  the  work  had  been  carried  on  simply  in  the 
interests  of  science,  but  Lieut.  Brooke's  method  of  sound- 
ing acquired  a  high  commercial  value,  when  the  enter- 
prise of  laying  down  the  telegraph-cable  between  this  25 
country  and  the  United  States  was  undertaken.  For  it 
became  a  matter  of  immense  importance  to  know,  not  only 
the  depth  of  the  sea  over  the  whole  line  along  which 
the  cable  was  to  be  laid,  but  the  exact  nature  of  the  bottom, 
so  as  to  guard  against  chances  of  cutting  or  fraying  the  30 
strands  of  that  costly  rope.  The  Admiralty  consequently 
ordered  Captain  Dayman,  an  old  friend  and  shipmate  of 
mine,  to  ascertain  the  depth  over  the  whole  line  of  the  cable, 
and  to  bring  back  specimens  of  the  bottom.  In  former 


82  Selections  from  Huxley 

* 
days,  such  a  command  as  this  might  have  sounded  very 

much  like  one  of  the  impossible  things  which  the  young 
prince  in  the  fairy  tales  is  ordered  to  do  before  he  can 
obtain  the  hand  of  the  princess.  However,  in  the  months 
5  of  June  and  July  1857,  my  friend  performed  the  task 
assigned  to  him  with  great  expedition  and  precision,  with- 
out, so  far  as  I  know,  having  met  with  any  reward  of  that 
kind.  The  specimens  of  Atlantic  mud  which  he  procured 
were  sent  to  me  to  be  examined  and  reported  upon.* 

10  The  result  of  all  these  operations  is,  that  we  know  the 
contours  and  the  nature  of  the  surface-soil  covered  by  the 
North  Atlantic,  for  a  distance  of  1,700  miles  from  east 
to  west,  as  well  as  we  know  that  of  any  part  of  the  dry 
land. 

15  It  is  a  prodigious  plain — one  of  the  widest  and  most 
even  plains  in  the  world.  If  the  sea  were  drained  off, 
you  might  drive  a  wagon  all  the  way  from  Valentia,  on 
the  west  coast  of  Ireland,  to  Trinity  Bay,  in  Newfound- 
land. And,  except  upon  one  sharp  incline  about  2OO 

20  miles  from  Valentia,  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  it  would 
even  be  necessary  to  put  the  skid  on,  so  gentle  are  the 
ascents  and  descents  upon  that  long  route.  From  Valentia 
the  road  would  lie  down-hill  for  about  200  miles  to  the 
point  at  which  the  bottom  is  now  covered  by  1,700 

25  fathoms  of  sea-water.  Then  would  come  the  central  plain, 
more  than  a  thousand  miles  wide,  the  inequalities  of  the 
surface  of  which  would  be  hardly  perceptible,  though  the 
depth  of  water  upon  it  now  varies  from  10,000  to  15,000 

*  See  Appendix  to  Captain  Dayman's  Deep-sea  Soundings  in 
30  the  North  Atlantic  Ocean,  between  Ireland  and  Newfoundland, 
made  in  H.M.S.  "  Cyclops."  Published  by  order  of  the  Lords 
Commissioners  of  the  Admiralty,  1858.  They  have  since  formed 
the  subject  of  an  elaborate  Memoir  by  Messrs.  Parker  and  Jones, 
published  in  the  Philosophical  Transactions  for  1865. 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  83 

feet;  and  there  are  places  in  which  Mont  Blanc  might  be 
sunk  without  showing  its  peak  above  water.  Beyond  this, 
the  ascent  on  the  American  side  commences,  and  gradu- 
ally leads,  for  about  300  miles,  to  the  Newfoundland  shore. 

Almost  the  whole  of  the  bottom  of  this  central  plain  5 
(which  extends  for  many  hundred  miles  in  a  north  and 
south  direction)   is  covered  by  a  fine  mud,  which,  when 
brought  to  the  surface,  dries  into  a  grayish-white  friable 
substance.     You  can  write  with  this  on  a  blackboard,  if 
you  are  so  inclined;  and,  to  the  eye,  it  is  quite  like  very  10 
soft,   grayish  chalk.     Examined  chemically,  it  proves  to 
be  composed  almost  wholly  of  carbonate  of  lime;  and  if 
you  make  a  section  of  it,  in  the  same  way  as  that  of  the 
piece  of  chalk  was  made,  and  view  it  with  the  microscope, 
it  presents  innumerable  Globigerince  embedded  in  a  granu-  15 
lar  matrix. 

Thus  this  deep-sea  mud  is  substantially  chalk.     I  say 
substantially,  because  there  are  a  good  many  minor  dif- 
ferences; but  as  these  have  no  bearing  on  the  question 
immediately  before  us, — which  is  the  nature  of  the  Globi-  20 
gerince  of  the  chalk, — it  is  unnecessary  to  speak  of  them. 

Globigervue  of  every  size,  from  the  smallest  to  the 
largest,  are  associated  together  in  the  Atlantic  mud,  and 
the  chambers  of  many  are  filled  by  a  soft  animal  matter. 
This  soft  substance  is,  in  fact,  the  remains  of  the  creature  25 
to  which  the  Globigerina  shell,  .or  rather  skeleton,  owes 
its  existence — and  which  is  an  animal  of  the  simplest 
imaginable  description.  It  is,  in  fact,  a  mere  particle 
of  living  jelly,  without  defined  parts  of  any  kind — with- 
out a  mouth,  nerves,  muscles,  or  distinct  organs,  and  only  30 
manifesting  its  vitality  to  ordinary  observation  by  thrust- 
ing out  and  retracting  from  all  parts  of  its  surface,  long 
filamentous  processes,  which  serve  for  arms  and  legs. 
Yet  this  amorphous  particle,  devoid  of  everything  which, 


84  Selections  from  Huxley 

in  the  higher  animals,  we  call  organs,  is  capable  of  feed- 
ing, growing,  and  multiplying;  of  separating  from  the 
ocean  the  small  proportion  of  carbonate  of  lime  which  is 
dissolved  in  sea-water;  and  of  building  up  that  substance 
5  into  a  skeleton  for  itself,  according  to  a  pattern  which 
can  be  imitated  by  no  other  known  agency. 

The  notion  that  animals  can  live  and  flourish  in  the 
sea,  at  the  vast  depths  from  which  apparently  living 
Globtgeritue  have  been  brought  up,  does  not  agree  very 

10  well  with  our  usual  conceptions  respecting  the  conditions 
of  animal  life;  and  it  is  not  so  absolutely  impossible  as 
it  might  at  first  sight  appear  to  be,  that  the  Globigeriiue 
of  the  Atlantic  sea-bottom  do  not  live  and  die  where  they 
are  found. 

15  As  I  have  mentioned,  the  soundings  from  the  great 
Atlantic  plain  are  almost  entirely  made  up  of  Globi- 
gerinez,  with  the  granules  which  have  been  mentioned, 
and  some  few  other  calcareous  shells;  but  a  small  per- 
centage of  the  chalky  mud — perhaps  at  most  some  five 

20  per  cent,  of  it — is  of  a  different  nature,  and  consists  of 
shells  and  skeletons  composed  of  silex,  or  pure  flint.  These 
silicious  bodies  belong  partly  to  the  lowly  vegetable  or- 
ganisms which  are  called  Diatomacea,  and  partly  to  the 
minute,  and  extremely  simple,  animals,  termed  Radiolaria. 

25  It  is  quite  certain  that  these  creatures  do  not  live  at  the 
bottom  of  the  ocean,  but  at  its  surface — where  they  may 
be  obtained  in  prodigious  numbers  by  the  use  of  a  properly 
constructed  net.  Hence  it  follows  that  these  silicious 
organisms,  though  they  are  not  heavier  than  the  lightest 

30  dust,  must  have  fallen,  in  some  cases  through  fifteen  thou- 
sand feet  of  water,  before  they  reached  their  final  resting- 
place  on  the  ocean  floor.  And,  considering  how  large  a 
surface  these  bodies  expose  in  proportion  to  their  weight,  it 
is  probable  that  they  occupy  a  great  length  of  time 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  85 

in  making  their  burial  journey  from  the  surface  of  the 
Atlantic  to  the  bottom. 

But  if  the  Radiolaria  and  Diatoms  are  thus  rained 
upon  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  from  the  superficial  layer 
of  its  waters  in  which  they  pass  their  lives,  it  is  ob-  5 
viously  possible  that  the  Globigerina  may  be  similarly 
derived;  and  if  they  were  so,  it  would  be  much  more 
easy  to  understand  how  they  obtain  their  supply  of  food 
than  it  is  at  present.  Nevertheless,  the  positive  and 
negative  evidence  all  points  the  other  way.  The  skeletons  10 
of  the  full-grown,  deep-sea  Globigennte  are  so  remarkably 
solid  and  heavy  in  proportion  to  their  surface  as  to  seem 
little  fitted  for  floating;  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  they 
are  not  to  be  found  along  with  the  Diatoms  and 
Radiolaria,  in  the  uppermost  stratum  of  the  open  ocean.  15 

It  has  been  observed,  again,  that  the  abundance  of 
Globigerinte ,  in  proportion  to  other  organisms,  of  like 
kind,  increases  with  the  depth  of  the  sea;  and  that 
deep-water  Globigerina  are  larger  than  those  which  live 
in  shallower  parts  of  the  sea;  and  such  facts  negative  20 
the  supposition  that  these  organisms  have  been  swept  by 
currents  from  the  shallows  into  the  deeps  of  the  Atlantic. 

It  therefore  seems  to  be  hardly  doubtful  that  these 
wonderful  creatures  live  and  die  at  the  depths  in  which 
they  are  found.*  25 

However,  the  important  points  for  us  are,  that  the 
living  Globigerirue  are  exclusively  marine  animals,  the 
skeletons  of  which  abound  at  the  bottom  of  deep  seas; 

*  During  the  cruise  of  H.M.S.  Bulldog,  commanded  by  Sir 
Leopold  M'Clintock,  in  1860,  living  star-fish  were  brought  up,  30 
clinging  to  the  lowest  part  of  the  sounding-line,  from  a  depth  of 
1,260  fathoms,  midway  between  Cape  Farewell,  in  Greenland, 
and  the  Rockall  banks.  Dr.  Wallich  ascertained  that  the  sea- 
bottom  at  this  point  consisted  of  the  ordinary  Globigerina  ooze, 


86  Selections  from  Huxley 

and  that  there  is  n6t  a  shadow  of  reason  for  believing 
that  the  habits  of  the  Globigetina  of  the  chalk  differed 
from  those  of  the  existing  species.  But  if  this  be  true, 
there  is  no  escaping  the  conclusion  that  the  chalk  itself 
5  is  the  dried  mud  of  an  ancient  deep  sea. 

In  working  over  the  soundings  collected  by  Captain 
Dayman,  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  many  of  what 
I  have  called  the  "  granules "  of  that  mud,  were  not,  as 
one  might  have  been  tempted  to  think  at  first,  the  mere 

10  powder  and  waste  of  Globigerince ,  but  that  they  had  a 
definite  form  and  size.  I  termed  these  bodies  "  coc eo- 
liths," and  doubted  their  organic  nature.  Dr.  Wallich 
verified  my  observation,  and  added  the  interesting  dis- 
covery that,  not  unfrequently,  bodies  similar  to  these 

15  "  coccoliths "    were    aggregated    together    into    spheroids, 

which  he  termed  "  coccospheres."     So  far  as  we  know, 

these  bodies,  the  nature  of  which  is  extremely  puzzling 

and  problematical,  were  peculiar  to  the  Atlantic  soundings. 

But,  a  few  years  ago,  Mr.  Sorby,  in  making  a  careful 

20  examination  of  the  chalk  by  means  of  thin  sections  and 
otherwise,  observed,  as  Ehrenberg  had  done  before  him, 
that  much  of  its  granular  basis  possesses  a  definite  form. 
Comparing  these  formed  particles  with  those  in  the 
Atlantic  soundings,  he  found  the  two  to  be  identical ;  and 

25  thus  proved  that  the  chalk,  like  the  soundings,  contains 
these  mysterious  coccoliths  and  coccospheres.  Here  was 
a  further  and  a  most  interesting  confirmation,  from  in- 

and  that  the  stomachs  of  the  star-fishes  were  full  of  Globi- 
gennce.  This  discovery  removes  all  objections  to  the  existence 
30  of  living  GlobigeriiKe  at  great  depths,  which  are  based  upon  the 
supposed  difficulty  of  maintaining  animal  life  under  such  con- 
ditions; and  it  throws  the  burden  of  proof  upon  those  who  object 
to  the  supposition  that  the  Globigenna  live  and  die  where  they 
are  found. 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  87 

ternal  evidence,  of  the  essential  identity  of  the  chalk 
with  modern  deep-sea  mud.  Globigervue,  coccoliths,  and 
coccospheres  are  found  as  the  chief  constituents  of  both, 
and  testify  to  the  general  similarity  of  the  conditions 
under  which  both  have  been  formed.*  5 

The  evidence  furnished  by  the  hewing,  facing,  and  super- 
position of  the  stones  of  the  pyramids,  that  these  structures 
were  built  by  men,  has  no  greater  weight  than  the  evi- 
dence that  the  chalk  was  built  by  Globigenna; ;  and  the 
belief  that  those  ancient  pyramid-builders  were  terrestrial  10 
and  air-breathing  creatures  like  themselves,  is  not  better 
based  than  the  conviction  that  the  chalk-makers  lived  in 
the  sea. 

But  as  our  belief  in  the  building  of  the  pyramids  by 
men  is  not  only  grounded  on  the  internal  evidence  afforded  15 
by  these  structures,  but  gathers  strength  from  multi- 
tudinous collateral  proofs,  and  is  clinched  by  the  total 
absence  of  any  reason  for  a  contrary  belief;  so  the 
evidence  drawn  from  the  Globeriginte  that  the  chalk  is 
an  ancient  sea-bottom,  is  fortified  by  innumerable  inde-  20 
pendent  lines  of  evidence;  and  our  belief  in  the  truth 
of  the  conclusion  to  which  all  positive  testimony  tends, 
receives  the  like  negative  justification  from  the  fact  that 
no  other  hypothesis  has  a  shadow  of  foundation. 

It  may  be  worth  while  briefly  to  consider  a  few  of  25 
these  collateral   proofs  that  the  chalk  was  deposited  at 
the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

The  great  mass  of  the  chalk  is  composed,  as  we  have 
seen,  of  the  skeletons  of  Globigerints,  and  other  simple 

*  I  have  recently  traced  out  the  development  of  the  "  cocco-  30 
liths  "  from  a  diameter  of    ^  fa  Q  th  of  an  inch  up  to  their  largest 
size   (which  is  about    ^  fa  flth),  and  no  longer  doubt    that  they 
are  produced  by  independent  organisms,  which,  like  the  Globi- 
gennte,  live  and  die  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 


88  Selections  from  Huxley 

organisms,  imbedded  in  granular  matter.  Here  and  there, 
however,  this  hardened  mud  of  the  ancient  sea  reveals  the 
remains  of  higher  animals  which  have  lived  and  died, 
and  left  their  hard  parts  in  the  mud,  just  as  the  oysters 

5  die  and  leave  their  shells  behind  them,  in  the  mud  of  the 
present  seas. 

There  are,  at  the  present  day,  certain  groups  of  animals 
which  are  never  found  in  fresh  waters,  being  unable  to 
live  anywhere  but  in  the  sea.  Such  are  the  corals;  those 

10  corallines  which  are  called  Polyzoa;  those  creatures  which 
fabricate  the  lamp-shells,  and  are  called  Brachiopoda;  the 
pearly  Nautilus,  and  all  animals  allied  to  it;  and  all  the 
forms  of  sea-urchins  and  star-fishes. 

Not  only  are  all  these  creatures  confined  to  salt  water 

15  at  the  present  day ;  but,  so  far  as  our  records  of  the  past 
go,  the  conditions  of  their  existence  have  been  the  same: 
hence,  their  occurrence  in  any  deposit  is  as  strong  evi- 
dence as  can  be  obtained,  that  that  deposit  was  formed  in 
the  sea.  Now  the  remains  of  animals  of  all  the  kinds 

20  which  have  been  enumerated,  occur  in  the  chalk,  in  greater 
or  less  abundance;  while  not  one  of  those  forms  of  shell- 
fish which  are  characteristic  of  fresh  water  has  yet  been 
observed  in  it. 

When  we  consider  that  the  remains  of  more  than  three 

25  thousand  distinct  species  of  aquatic  animals  have  been 
discovered  among  the  fossils  of  the  chalk,  that  the  great 
majority  of  them  are  of  such  forms  as  are  now  met  with 
only  in  the  sea,  and  that  there  is  no  reason  to  believe 
that  any  one  of  them  inhabited  fresh  water — the  collateral 

30  evidence  that  the  chalk  represents  an  ancient  sea-bottom 
acquires  as  great  force  as  the  proof  derived  from  the 
nature  of  the  chalk  itself.  I  think  you  will  now  allow 
that  I  did  not  overstate  my  case  when  I  asserted  that 
we  have  as  strong  grounds  for  believing  that  all  the  vast 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  89 

area  of  dry  land,  at  present  occupied  by  the  chalk,  was 
once  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea,  as  we  have  for  any  matter 
of  history  whatever;  while  there  is  no  justification  for 
any  other  belief. 

No  less  certain  it  is  that  the  time  during  which  the  5 
countries  we  now  call  south-east  England,  France,  Ger- 
many, Poland,  Russia,  Egypt,  Arabia,  Syria,  were  more  or 
less  completely  covered  by  a  deep  sea,  was  of  considerable 
duration. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  chalk  is,  in  places,  10 
more  than  a  thousand  feet  thick.  I  think  you  will  agree 
with  me,  that  it  must  have  taken  some  time  for  the  skele- 
tons of  animalcules  of  a  hundredth  of  an  inch  in  diameter 
to  heap  up  such  a  mass  as  that.  I  have  said  that  through- 
out the  thickness  of  the  chalk  the  remains  of  other  ani-  15 
mals  are  scattered.  These  remains  are  often  in  the  most 
exquisite  state  of  preservation.  The  valves  of  the  shell- 
fishes are  commonly  adherent;  the  long  spines  of  some  of 
the  sea-urchins,  which  would  be  detached  by  the  smallest 
jar,  often  remain  in  their  places.  In  a  word,  it  is  certain  20 
that  these  animals  have  lived  and  died  when  the  place 
which  they  now  occupy  was  the  surface  of  as  much  of  the 
chalk  as  had  then  been  deposited;  and  that  each  has  been 
covered  up  by  the  layer  of  Globigerina  mud,  upon  which 
the  creatures  imbedded  a  little  higher  up  have,  in  like  25 
manner,  lived  and  died.  But  some  of  these  remains  prove 
the  existence  of  reptiles  of  vast  size  in  the  chalk  sea. 
These  lived  their  time,  and  had  their  ancestors  and  de- 
scendants, which  assuredly  implies  time,  reptiles  being  of 
slow  growth.  30 

There  is  more  curious  evidence,  again,  that  the  process 
of  covering  up,  or,  in  other  words,  the  deposit  of  Globi- 
gerina skeletons,  did  not  go  on  very  fast.  It  is  demon- 
strable that  an  animal  of  the  cretaceous  sea  might  die, 


90  Selections  from  Huxley 

that  its  skeleton  might  lie  uncovered  upon  the  sea-bottom 
long  enough  to  lose  all  its  outward  coverings  and  append- 
ages by  putrefaction;  and  that,  after  this  had  happened, 
another  animal  might  attach  itself  to  the  dead  and  naked 
5  skeleton,  might  grow  to  maturity,  and  might  itself  die 
before  the  calcareous  mud  had  buried  the  whole. 

Cases  of  this  kind  are  admirably  described  by  Sir 
Charles  Lyell.  He  speaks  of  the  frequency  with  which 
geologists  find  in  the  chalk  a  fossilized  sea-urchin,  to 

10  which  is  attached  the  lower  valve  of  a  Crania.  This 
is  a  kind  of  shell-fish,  with  a  shell  composed  of  two 
pieces,  of  which,  as  in  the  oyster,  one  is  fixed  and  the 
other  free. 

"  The  upper  valve  is  almost  invariably  wanting,  though 

15  occasionally  found  in  a  perfect  state  of  preservation  in 
the  white  chalk  at  some  distance.  In  this  case,  we  see 
clearly  that  the  sea-urchin  first  lived  from  youth  to  age, 
then  died  and  lost  its  spines,  which  were  carried  away. 
Then  the  young  Crania  adhered  to  the  bared  shell,  grew 

20  and  perished  in  its  turn ;  after  which,  the  upper  valve  was 
separated  from  the  lower,  before  the  Echinus  became 
enveloped  in  chalky  mud."  * 

A  specimen  in  the  Museum  of  Practical  Geology,  in 
London,  still  further  prolongs  the  period  which  must  have 

25  elapsed  between  the  death  of  the  sea-urchin,  and  its  burial 
by  the  Globigerina.  For  the  outward  face  of  the  valve 
of  a  Crania,  which  is  attached  to  a  sea-urchin  (Micraster), 
is  itself  overrun  by  an  incrusting  coralline,  which  spreads 
thence  over  more  or  less  of  the  surface  of  the  sea-urchin. 

30  It  follows  that,  after  the  upper  valve  of  the  Crania  fell 
off,  the  surface  of  the  attached  valve  must  have  remained 
exposed  long  enough  to  allow  of  the  growth  of  the 

*  Elements  of  Geology,  by  Sir  Charles  Lyell,  Bart,  F.R.S.,  p.  23. 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  91 

whole  coralline,  since  corallines  do  not  live  imbedded  in 
mud. 

The  progress  of  knowledge  may,  one  day,  enable  us 
to  deduce  from  such  facts  as  these  the  maximum  rate 
at  which  the  chalk  can  have  accumulated,  and  thus  to  5 
arrive  at  the  minimum  duration  of  the  chalk  period. 
Suppose  that  the  valve  of  the  Crania  upon  which  a 
coralline  has  fixed  itself  in  the  way  just  described,  is  so 
attached  to  the  sea-urchin  that  no  part  of  it  is  more  than 
an  inch  above  the  face  upon  which  the  sea-urchin  rests.  10 
Then,  as  the  coralline  could  not  have  fixed  itself,  if  the 
Crania  had  been  covered  up  with  chalk  mud,  and  could 
not  have  lived  had  itself  been  so  covered,  it  follows, 
that  an  inch  of  chalk  mud  could  not  have  accumulated 
within  the  time  between  the  death  and  decay  of  the  soft  15 
parts  of  the  sea-urchin  and  the  growth  of  the  coralline  to 
the  full  size  which  it  has  attained.  If  the  decay  of  the 
soft  parts  of  the  sea-urchin;  the  attachment,  growth  to 
maturity,  and  decay  of  the  Crania;  and  the  subsequent 
attachment  and  growth  of  the  coralline,  took  a  year  20 
(which  is  a  low  estimate  enough),  the  accumulation  of 
the  inch  of  chalk  must  have  taken  more  than  a  year: 
and  the  deposit  of  a  thousand  feet  of  chalk  must, 
consequently,  have  taken  more  than  twelve  thousand 
years.  25 

The  foundation  of  all  this  calculation  is,  of  course,  a 
knowledge  of  the  length  of  time  the  Crania  and  the 
coralline  needed  to  attain  their  full  size;  and,  on  this 
head,  precise  knowledge  is  at  present  wanting.  But 
there  are  circumstances  which  tend  to  show,  that  nothing  30 
like  an  inch  of  chalk  has  accumulated  during  the  life  of 
a  Crania;  and,  on  any  probable  estimate  of  the  length 
of  that  life,  the  chalk  period  must  have  had  a  much 
longer  duration  than  that  thus  roughly  assigned  to  it. 


92  Selections  from  Huxley 

Thus,  not  only  is  it  certain  that  the  chalk  is  the  mud  of 
an  ancient  sea-bottom;  but  it  is  no  less  certain,  that  the 
chalk  sea  existed  during  an  extremely  long  period,  though 
we  may  not  be  prepared  to  give  a  precise  estimate  of  the 
5  length  of  that  period  in  years.  The  relative  duration  is 
clear,  though  the  absolute  duration  may  not  be  definable. 
The  attempt  to  affix  any  precise  date  to  the  period  at 
which  the  chalk  sea  began,  or  ended,  its  existence,  is 
baffled  by  difficulties  of  the  same  kind.  But  the  rela- 

10  tive  age  of  the  cretaceous  epoch  may  be  determined  with 
as  great  ease  and  certainty  as  the  long  duration  of  that 
epoch. 

You  will  have  heard  of  the  interesting  discoveries  re- 
cently made,  in  various  parts  of  Western  Europe,  of  flint 

15  implements,  obviously  worked  into  shape  by  human  hands, 
under  circumstances  which  show  conclusively  that  man  is 
a  very  ancient  denizen  of  these  regions. 

It  has  been  proved  that  the  old  populations  of  Europe, 
whose  existence  has  been  revealed  to  us  in  this  way,  con- 

20  sisted  of  savages,  such  as  the  Esquimaux  are  now;  that, 
in  the  country  which  is  now  France,  they  hunted  the 
reindeer,  and  were  familiar  with  the  ways  of  the  mam- 
moth and  the  bison.  The  physical  geography  of  France 
was  in  those  days  different  from  what  it  is  now — the  river 

25  Somme,  for  instance,  having  cut  its  bed  a  hundred  feet 
deeper  between  that  time  and  this;  and,  it  is  probable, 
that  the  climate  was  more  like  that  of  Canada  or  Siberia, 
than  that  of  Western  Europe. 

The  existence  of  these  people  is  forgotten  even  in  the 

30  traditions  of  the  oldest  historical  nations.  The  name  and 
fame  of  them  had  utterly  vanished  until  a  few  years 
back;  and  the  amount  of  physical  change  which  has  been 
effected  since  their  day,  renders  it  more  than  probable 
that,  venerable  as  are  some  of  the  historical  nations,  the 


On  a  Piece  -of  Chalk  93 

workers  of  the  chipped  flints  of  Hoxne  or  of  Amiens  are 
to  them,  as  they  are  to  us,  in  point  of  antiquity. 

But,  if  we  assign  to  these  hoar  relics  of  long-vanished 
generations  of  men  the  greatest  age  that  can  possibly  be 
claimed  for  them,  they  are  not  older  than  the  drift,  or  5 
boulder  clay,   which,   in   comparison   with   the   chalk,   is 
but  a  very  juvenile  deposit.     You  need   go  no  further 
that  your  own  sea-board  for  evidence  of  this  fact.     At 
one  of  the  most  charming  spots  on  the  coast  of  Norfolk, 
Cromer,  you  will  see  the  boulder  clay  forming  a  vast  10 
mass,  which  lies  upon  the  chalk,  and  must  consequently 
have   come   into   existence   after   it.      Huge   boulders   of 
chalk  are,  in  fact,  included  in  the  clay,  and  have  evi- 
dently been  brought   to  the  position   they  now  occupy, 
by  the  same  agency  as  that  which  has  planted  blocks  of  15 
syenite  from  Norway  side  by  side  with  them. 

The  chalk,  then,  Is  certainly  older  than  the  boulder 
clay.  If  you  ask  how  much,  I  will  again  take  you  no 
further  than  the  same  spot  upon  your  own  coasts  for 
evidence.  I  have  spoken  of  the  boulder  clay  and  drift  20 
as  resting  upon  the  chalk.  That  is  not  strictly  true. 
Interposed  between  the  chalk  and  the  drift  is  a  compara- 
tively insignificant  layer,  containing  vegetable  matter. 
But  that  layer  tells  a  wonderful  history.  It  is  full  of 
stumps  of  trees  standing  as  they  grew.  Fir-trees  are  25 
there  with  their  cones,  and  hazel-bushes  with  their  nuts; 
there  stand  the  stools  of  oak  and  yew  trees,  beeches  and 
alders.  Hence  this  stratum  is  appropriately  called  the 
"  forest-bed." 

It  is  obvious  that  the  chalk  must  have  been  upheaved  30 
and    converted    into    dry   land,    before   the   timber   trees 
could  grow  upon  it.     As  the  bolls  of  some  of  these  trees 
are  from  two  to  three  feet  in  diameter,  it  is  no  less  clear 
that  the  dry  land   thus  formed   remained   in   the  same 


94  Selections  from  Huxley 

condition  for  long  ages.  And  not  only  do  the  remains 
of  stately  oaks  and  well-grown  firs  testify  to  the  duration 
of  this  condition  of  things,  but  additional  evidence  to 
the  same  effect  is  afforded  by  the  abundant  remains  of 
5  elephants,  rhinoceroses,  hippopotamuses,  and  other  great 
wild  beasts,  which  it  has  yielded  to  the  zealous  search  of 
such  men  as  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gunn. 

When  you  look  at  such  a  collection  as  he  has  formed, 
and  bethink  you  that  these  elephantine  bones  did  veritably 

10  carry  their  owners  about,  and  these  great  grinders  crunch, 
in  the  dark  woods  of  which  the  forest-bed  is  now  the 
only  trace,  it  is  impossible  not  to  feel  that  they  are  as 
good  evidence  of  the  lapse  of  time  as  the  annual  rings 
of  the  tree-stumps. 

15  Thus  there  is  a  writing  upon  the  wall  of  cliffs  at 
Cromer,  and  whoso  runs  may  read  it.  It  tells  us,  with 
an  authority  which  cannot  be  impeached,  that  the  ancient 
sea-bed  of  the  chalk  sea  was  raised  up,  and  remained  dry 
land,  until  it  was  covered  with  forest,  stocked  with  the 

20  great  game  whose  spoils  have  rejoiced  your  geologists. 
How  long  it  remained  in  that  condition  cannot  be  said; 
but  "  the  whirligig  of  time  brought  its  revenges  "  in  those 
days  as  in  these.  That  dry  land,  with  the  bones  and 
teeth  of  generations  of  long-lived  elephants,  hidden  away 

25  among  the  gnarled  roots  and  dry  leaves  of  its  ancient  trees, 
sank  gradually  to  the  bottom  of  the  icy  sea,  which  covered 
it  writh  huge  masses  of  drift  and  boulder  clay.  Sea- 
beasts,  such  as  the  walrus,  now  restricted  to  the  extreme 
north,  paddled  about  where  birds  had  twittered  among 

30  the  topmost  twigs  of  the  fir-trees.  How  long  this  state 
of  things  endured  we  know  not,  but  at  length  it  came  to 
an  end.  The  upheaved  glacial  mud  hardened  into  the  soil 
of  modern  Norfolk.  Forests  grew  once  more,  the  wolf 
and  the  beaver  replaced  the  reindeer  and  the  elephant; 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  95 

and   at   length   what  we   call   the   history   of   England 
dawned. 

Thus  you  have,  within  the  limits  of  your  own  county, 
proof  that  the  chalk  can  justly  claim  a  very  much  greater 
antiquity  than  even  the  oldest  physical  traces  of  mankind.  5 
But  we  may  go  further  and  demonstrate,  by  evidence 
of  the  same  authority  as  that  which  testifies  to  the 
existence  of  the  father  of  men,  that  the  chalk  is  vastly 
older  than  Adam  himself. 

The  Book  of  Genesis  informs  us  that  Adam,  immedi-  10 
ately  upon   his  creation,   and   before   the   appearance   of 
Eve,  was  placed  in  the  Garden  of  Eden.     The  problem 
of  the  geographical  position  of  Eden  has  greatly  vexed  the 
spirits  of  the  learned  in  such  matters,  but  there  is  one 
point  respecting  which,  so  far  as  I  know,  no  commentator  15 
has  ever  raised  a  doubt.     This  is,  that  of  the  four  rivers 
which  are  said  to  run  out  of  it,  Euphrates  and  Hiddekel 
are  identical  with  the  rivers  now  known  by  the  names  of 
Euphrates  and  Tigris. 

But  the  whole  country  in  which  these  mighty  rivers  20 
take  their  origin,  and  through  which  they  run,  is  composed 
of  rocks  which  are  either  of  the  same  age  as  the  chalk,  or 
of  later  date.    So  that  the  chalk  must  not  only  have  been 
formed,  but,  after  its  formation,  the  time  required  for 
the  deposit  of  these  later  rocks,  and  for  their  upheaval  25 
into   dry   land,   must  have   elapsed,   before  the   smallest 
brook  which  feeds  the  swift  stream  of  "  the  great  river, 
the  river  of  Babylon,"  began  to  flow. 

Thus,  evidence  which  cannot  be  rebutted,  and  which 
need   not   be  strengthened,   though   if  time   permitted   I  30 
might  indefinitely  increase  its  quantity,  compels  you  to 
believe  that  the  earth,  from  the  time  of  the  chalk  to  the 
present  day,  has  been  the  theater  of  a  series  of  changes  as 


96  Selections  from  Huxley 

vast  in  their  amount,  as  they  were  slow  in  their  progress. 
The  area  on  which  we  stand  has  been  first  sea  and  then 
land,  for  at  least  four  alternations;  and  has  remained  in 
each  of  these  conditions  for  a  period  of  great  length. 
5  Nor  have  these  wonderful  metamorphoses  of  sea  into 
land,  and  of  land  into  sea,  been  confined  to  one  corner 
of  England.  During  the  chalk  period,  or  "cretaceous 
epoch,"  not  one  of  the  present  great  physical  features  of 
the  globe  was  in  existence.  Our  great  mountain  ranges, 

10  Pyrenees,  Alps,  Himalayas,  Andes,  have  all  been  up- 
heaved since  the  chalk  was  deposited,  and  the  cretaceous 
sea  flowed  over  the  sites  of  Sinai  and  Ararat. 

All  this  is  certain,  because  rocks  of  cretaceous,  or  still 
later,  date  have  shared  in  the  elevatory  movements  which 

15  gave  rise  to  these  mountain  chains;  and  may  be  found 
perched  up,  in  some  cases,  many  thousand  feet  high  upon 
their  flanks.  And  evidence  of  equal  cogency  demonstrates 
that,  though,  in  Norfolk,  the  forest-bed  rests  directly  upon 
the  chalk,  yet  it  does  so,  not  because  the  period  at  which 

20  the  forest  grew  immediately  followed  that  at  which  the 
chalk  was  formed,  but  because  an  immense  lapse  of  time, 
represented  elsewhere  by  thousands  of  feet  of  rock,  is  not 
indicated  at  Cromer. 

I  must  ask  you  to  believe  that  there  is  no  less  con- 

25  elusive  proof  that  a  still  more  prolonged  succession  of 
similar  changes  occurred,  before  the  chalk  was  deposited. 
Nor  have  we  any  reason  to  think  that  the  first  term  in 
the  series  of  these  changes  is  known.  The  oldest  sea- 
beds  preserved  to  us  are  sands,  and  mud,  and  pebbles, 

30  the  wear  and  tear  of  rocks  which  were  formed  in  still 
older  oceans. 

But,  great  as  is  the  magnitude  of  these  physical  changes 
of  the  world,  they  have  been  accompanied  by  a  no  less 
striking  series  of  modifications  in  its  living  inhabitants. 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  97 

All  the  great  classes  of  animals,  beasts  of  the  field, 
fowls  of  the  air,  creeping  things,  and  things  which  dwell 
in  the  waters,  flourished  upon  the  globe  long  ages  before 
the  chalk  was  deposited.  Very  few,  however,  if  any,  of 
these  ancient  forms  of  animal  life  were  identical  with  5 
those  which  now  live.  Certainly  not  one  of  the  higher 
animals  was  of  the  same  species  as  any  of  those  now  in 
existence.  The  beasts  of  the  field,  in  the  days  before 
the  chalk,  were  not  our  beasts  of  the  field,  nor  the  fowls 
of  the  air  such  as  those  which  the  eye  of  men  has  seen  10 
flying,  unless  his  antiquity  dates  infinitely  further  back 
than  we  at  present  surmise.  If  we  could  be  carried 
back  into  those  times,  we  should  be  as  one  suddenly  set 
down  in  Australia  before  it  was  colonized.  We  should 
see  mammals,  birds,  reptiles,  fishes,  insects,  snails,  and  15 
the  like,  clearly  recognizable  as  such,  and  yet  not  one  of 
them  would  be  just  the  same  as  those  with  which  we  are 
familiar,  and  many  would  be  extremely  different. 

From  that  time  to  the  present,  the  population  of  the 
world   has  undergone  slow  and   gradual,   but  incessant,  20 
changes.     There  has  been  no  grand  catastrophe — no  de- 
stroyer has  swept  away  the  forms  of  life  of  one  period, 
and  replaced  them  by  a  totally  new  creation;  but  one 
species   has   vanished    and   another   has   taken    its   place; 
creatures  of  one  type  of  structure  have  diminished,  those  25 
of  another  have  increased,  as  time  has  passed  on.     And 
thus,  while  the  differences  between  the  living  creatures 
of  the  time  before  the  chalk  and  those  of  the  present  day 
appear  startling,  if  placed  side  by  side,  we  are  led  from 
one  to  the  other  by  the  most  gradual  progress,  if  we  follow  30 
the  course  of  Nature  through  the  whole  series  of  those 
relics  of  her  operations  which  she  has  left  behind. 

And  it  is  by  the  population  of  the  chalk  sea  that  the 
ancient   and   the  modern   inhabitants   of   the   world   are 


98  Selections  from  Huxley 

most  completely  connected.  The  groups  which  are  dying 
out  flourish,  side  by  side,  with  the  groups  which  are  now 
the  dominant  forms  of  life. 

Thus  the  chalk  contains  remains  of  those  strange 
5  flying  and  swimming  reptiles,  the  pterodactyl,  the  ich- 
thyosaurus, and  the  plesiosaurus,  which  are  found  in  no 
later  deposits,  but  abounded  in  preceding  ages.  The 
chambered  shells  called  ammonites  and  belemnites,  which 
are  so  characteristic  of  the  period  preceding  the  cretaceous, 

10  in  like  manner  die  with  it. 

But,  amongst  these  fading  remainders  of  a  previous 
state  of  things,  are  some  very  modern  forms  of  life, 
looking  like  Yankee  peddlers  among  a  tribe  of  Red  In- 
dians. Crocodiles  of  modern  type  appear;  bony  fishes, 

15  many  of  them  very  similar  to  existing  species,  almost 
supplant  the  forms  of  fish  which  predominate  in  more 
ancient  seas;  and  many  kinds  of  living  shell-fish  first 
become  known  to  us  in  the  chalk.  The  vegetation  ac- 
quires a  modern  aspect.  A  few  living  animals  are  not  even 

20  distinguishable  as  species  from  those  which  existed  at  that 
remote  epoch.  The  Globigerina  of  the  present  day,  for 
example,  is  not  different  specifically  from  that  of  the 
chalk;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  many  other  Fora- 
minifera.  I  think  it  probable  that  critical  and  unpreju- 

25  diced  examination  will  show  that  more  than  one  species 
of  much  higher  animals  have  had  a  similar  longevity; 
but  the  only  example  which  I  can  at  present  give  con- 
fidently is  the  snake's-head  lamp-shell  (Terebratulina 
caput  serpentis) ,  which  lives  in  our  English  seas  and 

30  abounded  (as  Terebratulina  striata  of  authors)  in  the 
chalk. 

The  longest  line  of  human  ancestry  must  hide  its  dimin- 
ished head  before  the  pedigree  of  this  insignificant  shell- 
fish. We  Englishmen  are  proud  to  have  an  ancestor  who 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  99 

was  present  at  the  Battle  of  Hastings.  The  ancestors  of 
Terebratulina  caput  serpentis  may  have  been  present  at 
a  battle  of  Ichthyosauria  in  that  part  of  the  sea  which, 
when  the  chalk  was  forming,  flowed  over  the  site  of 
Hastings.  While  all  around  has  changed,  this  Terebratu-  5 
Una  has  peacefully  propagated  its  species  from  generation 
to  generation,  and  stands  to  this  day,  as  a  living  testimony 
to  the  continuity  of  the  present  with  the  past  history 
of  the  globe. 

Up  to  this  moment  I  have  stated,  so  far  as  I  know,  10 
nothing  but  well-authenticated  facts,  and  the  immediate 
conclusions  which  they  force  upon  the  mind. 

But  the  mind  is  so  constituted  that  it  does  not  will- 
ingly rest  in  facts  and  immediate  causes,  but  seeks  always 
after  a  knowledge  of  the  remoter  links  in  the  chain  of  15 
causation. 

Taking  the  many  changes  of  any  given  spot  of  the 
earth's  surface,  from  sea  to  land  and  from  land  to  sea,  as 
an  established  fact,  we  cannot  refrain  from  asking  our- 
selves how  these  changes  have  occurred.  And  when  we  20 
have  explained  them — as  they  must  be  explained — by  the 
alternate  slow  movements  of  elevation  and  depression 
which  have  affected  the  crust  of  the  earth,  we  go  still 
further  back,  and  ask,  Why  these  movements? 

I  am  not  certain  that  any  one  can  give  you  a  satis-  25 
factory   answer   to   that   question.     Assuredly   I   cannot. 
All  that  can  be  said,  for  certain,  is,  that  such  movements 
are  part  of  the  ordinary  course  of  nature,  inasmuch  as 
they  are   going  on   at   the   present   time.      Direct   proof 
may  be  given,  that  some  parts  of  the  land  of  the  northern  30 
hemisphere  are  at  this  moment  insensibly  rising  and  others 
insensibly   sinking;   and    there   is   indirect,   but   perfectly 
satisfactory,  proof,  that  an  enormous  area  now  covered 


ioo  Selections  from  Huxley 

by  the  Pacific  has  been  deepened  thousands  of  feet,  since 
the  present  inhabitants  of  that  sea  came  into  existence. 

Thus  there  is  not  a  shadow  of  a  reason  for  believing 
that   the   physical   changes  .of   the   globe,    in   past   times, 
5  have  been  effected  by  other  than  natural  causes. 

Is  there  any  more  reason  for  believing  that  the  con- 
comitant modifications  in  the  forms  of  the  living  inhabi- 
tants of  the  globe  have  been  brought  about  in  other  ways? 
Before  attempting  to  answer  this  question,  let  us  try 

10  to  form  a  distinct  mental  picture  of  what  has  happened, 
in  some  special  case. 

The  crocodiles  are  animals  which,  as  a  group,  have  a 
very  vast  antiquity.  They  abounded  ages  before  the 
chalk  was  deposited ;  they  throng  the  rivers  in  warm 

15  climates,  at  the  present  day.  There  is  a  difference  in 
the  form  of  the  joints  of  the  backbone,  and  in  some 
minor  particulars,  between  the  crocodiles  of  the  present 
epoch  and  those  which  lived  before  the  chalk;  but,  in 
the  cretaceous  epoch,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  the 

20  crocodiles  had  assumed  the  modern  type  of  structure. 
Notwithstanding  this,  the  crocodiles  of  the  chalk  are  not 
identically  the  same  as  those  which  lived  in  the  times 
called  "older  tertiary,"  which  succeeded  the  cretaceous 
epoch;  and  the  crocodiles  of  the  older  tertiaries  are  not 

25  identical  with  those  of  the  newer  tertiaries,  nor  are  these 
identical  with  existing  forms.  I  leave  open  the  question 
whether  particular  species  may  have  lived  on  from  epoch 
to  epoch.  But  each  epoch  has  had  its  peculiar  crocodiles; 
though  all,  since  the  chalk,  have  belonged  to  the  modern 

30  type,  and  differ  simply  in  their  proportions,  and  in  such 
structural  particulars  as  are  discernible  only  to  trained 
eyes. 

How  is  the  existence  of  this  long  succession  of  dif- 
ferent species  of  crocodiles  to  be  accounted  for? 


On  a  Piece  of  Chalk  101 

Only  two  suppositions  seem  to  be  open  to  us — Either 
each  species  of  crocodile  has  been  specially  created,  or  it 
has  arisen  out  of  some  pre-existing  form  by  the  opera- 
tion of  natural  causes. 

Choose  your  hypothesis;  I  have  chosen  mine.     I  can  5 
find  no  warranty  for  believing  in  the  distinct  creation  of 
a  score  of  successive  species  of  crocodiles  in  the  course  of 
countless   ages   of   time.      Science   gives   no   countenance 
to  such  a  wild  fancy;  nor  can  even  the  perverse  ingenuity 
of  a  commentator  pretend  to  discover  this  sense,  in  the  10 
simple   words   in   which   the   writer   of   Genesis   records 
the    proceedings    of    the    fifth    and   sixth    days    of    the 
Creation. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  see  no  good  reason  for  doubting 
the  necessary  alternative,  that  all  these  varied  species  15 
have  been  evolved  from  pre-existing  crocodilian  forms, 
by  the  operation  of  causes  as  completely  a  part  of  the 
common  order  of  nature,  as  those  which  have  effected 
the  changes  of  the  inorganic  world. 

Few  will  venture  to  affirm  that  the  reasoning  which  20 
applies  to  crocodiles  loses  its  force  among  other  animals, 
or  among  plants.     If  one  series  of  species  has  come  into 
existence   by   the   operation   of   natural   causes,    it   seems 
folly  to  deny  that  all  may  have  arisen  in  the  same  way. 

A  small  beginning  has  led  us  to  a  great  ending.     If  I  25 
were   to   put   the   bit   of   chalk  with   which   we  started 
into  the  hot  but  obscure  flame  of  burning  hydrogen,  it 
would  presently  shine  like  the  sun.     It  seems  to  me  that 
this  physical   metamorphosis   is  no   false   image  of  what 
has  been  the  result  of  our  subjecting  it  to  a  jet  of  fervent,  30 
though  nowise  brilliant,  thought  to-night.     It  has  become 
luminous,  and  its  clear  rays,  penetrating  the  abyss  of  the 
remote  past,  have  brought  within  our  ken  some  stages 


IO2  Selections  from  Huxley 

of  the  evolution  of  the  earth.  And  in  the  shifting  "  with- 
out haste,  but  without  rest "  of  the  land  and  sea,  as  in  the 
endless  variation  of  the  forms  assumed  by  living  beings, 
we  have  observed  nothing  but  the  natural  product  of  the 
5  forces  originally  possessed  by  the  substance  of  the  universe. 


ON  SCIENCE  AND  ART  IN  RELATION   TO 
EDUCATION 

(1882) 

WHEN  a  man  is  honored  by  such  a  request  as  that 
which  reached  me  from  the  authorities  of  your  institution 
some  time  ago,  I  think  the  first  thing  that  occurs  to  him 
is  that  which  occurred  to  those  who  were  bidden  to  the 
feast  in  the  Gospel — to  begin  to  make  an  excuse;  and  5 
probably  all  the  excuses  suggested  on  that  famous  occasion 
crop  up  in  his  mind  one  after  the  other,  including  his 
"  having  married  a  wife,"  as  reasons  for  not  doing  what 
he  is  asked  to  do.  But,  in  my  own  case,  and  on  this  par- 
ticular occasion,  there  were  other  difficulties  of  a  sort  10 
peculiar  to  the  time,  and  more  or  less  personal  to  myself; 
because  I  felt  that,  if  I  came  amongst  you,  I  should  be 
expected,  and,  indeed,  morally  compelled,  to  speak  upon 
the  subject  of  Scientific  Education.  And  then  there  arose 
in  my  mind  the  recollection  of  a  fact,  which  probably  no  15 
one  here  but  myself  remembers;  namely,  that  some  four- 
teen years  ago  I  was  the  guest  of  a  citizen  of  yours,  who 
bears  the  honored  name  of  Rathbone,  at  a  very  charming 
and  pleasant  dinner  given  by  the  Philomathic  Society;  and 
I  there  and  then,  and  in  this  very  city,  made  a  speech  upon  20 
the  topic  of  Scientific  Education.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, you  see,  one  runs  two  dangers — the  first,  of  repeat- 
ing one's  self,  although  I  may  fairly  hope  that  everybody 
has  forgotten  the  fact  I  have  just  now  mentioned,  except 

103 


IO4  Selections  from  Huxley  • 

myself;  and  the  second,  and  even  greater  difficulty,  is  the 
danger  of  saying  something  different  from  what  one  said 
before,  because  then,  however  forgotten  your  previous 
speech  may  be,  somebody  finds  out  its  existence,  and  there 

5  goes  on  that  process  so  hateful  to  members  of  Parliament, 
which  may  be  denoted  by  the  term  "  Hansardization." 
Under  these  circumstances,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  best  thing  I  could  do  was  to  take  the  bull  by  the  horns, 
and  to  "  Hansardize  "  myself — to  put  before  you,  in  the 

10  briefest  possible  way,  the  three  or  four  propositions  which 
I  endeavored  to  support  on  the  occasion  of  the  speech  to 
which  I  have  referred;  and  then  to  ask  myself,  supposing 
you  were  asking  me,  whether  I  had  anything  to  retract,  or 
to  modify,  in  them,  in  virtue  of  the  increased  experience, 

15  and,  let  us  charitably  hope,  the  increased  wisdom  of  an 
added  fourteen  years. 

Now,  the  points  to  which  I  directed  particular  attention 
on  that  occasion  were  these:  in  the  first  place,  that  in- 
struction in  physical  science  supplies  information  of  a  char- 

20  acter  of  especial  value,  both  in  a  practical  and  a  speculative 
point  of  view — information  which  cannot  be  obtained 
otherwise;  and,  in  the  second  place,  that,  as  educational 
discipline,  it  supplies,  in  a  better  form  than  any  other 
study  can  supply,  exercise  in  a  special  form  of  logic,  and  a 

25  peculiar  method  of  testing  the  validity  of  our  processes  of 
inquiry.  I  said  further,  that,  even  at  that  time,  a  great 
and  increasing  attention  was  being  paid  to  physical  science 
in  our  schools  and  colleges,  and  that,  most  assuredly,  such 
attention  must  go  on  growing  and  increasing,  until  educa- 

30  tion  in  these  matters  occupied  a  very  much  larger  share 
of  the  time  which  is  given  to  teaching  and  training,  than 
had  been  the  case  heretofore.  And  I  threw  all  the  strength 
of  argumentation  of  which  I  was  possessed  into  the  sup- 
port of  these  propositions.  But  I  venture  to  remind  you, 


Science  and  Art  105 

also,  of  some  other  words  I  used  at  that  time,  and  which 
I  ask  permission  to  read  to  you.  They  were  these :  "  There 
are  other  forms  of  culture  besides  physical  science,  and  I 
should  be  profoundly  sorry  to  see  the  fact  forgotten,  or 
even  to  observe  a  tendency  to  starve  or  cripple  literary  or  5 
aesthetic  culture  for  the  sake  of  science.  Such  a  narrow 
view  of  the  nature  of  education  has  nothing  to  do  with 
my  firm  conclusion  that  a  complete  and  thorough  scientific 
culture  ought  to  be  introduced  into  all  schools." 

I  say  I  desire,  in  commenting  upon  these  various  points,  10 
and  judging  them  as  fairly  as  I  can  by  the  light  of  in- 
creased experience,  to  particularly  emphasize  this  last,  be- 
cause I  am  told,  although  I  assuredly  do  not  know  it  of 
my  own  knowledge — though  I  think  if  the  fact  were  so 
I  ought  to  know  it,  being  tolerably  well  acquainted  with  15 
that  which  goes  on  in  the  scientific  world,  and  which  has 
gone  on  .there  for  the  last  thirty  years — that  there  is  a 
kind  of  sect,  or  horde,  of  scientific  Goths  and  Vandals, 
who  think  it  would  be  proper  and   desirable  to  sweep 
away  all  other  forms  of  culture  and  instruction,  except  20 
those  in  physical  science,  and  to  make  them  the  universal 
and  exclusive,  or,  at  any  rate,  the  dominant  training  of 
the  human  mind  of  the  future  generation.     This  is  not 
my  view — I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  anybody's  view — but 
it  is  attributed  to  those  who,  like  myself,  advocate  scientific  25 
education.    I  therefore  dwell  strongly  upon  the  point,  and 
I  beg  you  to  believe  that  the  words  I  have  just  now  read 
were  by  no  means  intended  by  me  as  a  sop  to  the  Cerberus 
of  culture.     I  have  not  been  in  the  habit  of  offering  sops 
to  any  kind  of  Cerberus ;  but  it  was  an  expression  of  pro-  30 
found  conviction  on  my  own  part — a  conviction  forced 
upon  me  not  only  by  my  mental  constitution,  but  by  the 
lessons  of  what  is  now  becoming  a  somewhat  long  experi- 
ence of  varied  conditions  of  life. 


io6  Selections  from  Huxley 

I  am  not  about  to  trouble  you  with  my  autobiography; 
the  omens  are  hardly  favorable,  at  present,  for  work  of 
that  kind.  But  I  should  like  if  I  may  do  so  without  ap- 
pearing, what  I  earnestly  desire  not  to  be,  egotistical — I 
5  should  like  to  make  it  clear  to  you,  that  such  notions  as 
these,  which  are  sometimes  attributed  to  me,  are,  as  I  have 
said,  inconsistent  with  my  mental  constitution,  and  still 
more  inconsistent  with  the  upshot  of  the  teaching  of  my 
experience.  For  I  can  certainly  claim  for  myself  that  sort 

10  of  mental  temperament  which  can  say  that  nothing  human 
comes  amiss  to  it.  I  have  never  yet  met  with  any  branch 
of  human  knowledge  which  I  have  found  unattractive — 
which  it  would  not  have  been  pleasant  to  me  to  follow,  so 
far  as  I  could  go;  and  I  have  yet  to  meet  with  any  form 

15  of  art  in  which  it  has  not  been  possible  for  me  to  take  as 
acute  a  pleasure  as,  I  believe,  it  is  possible  for  men  to 
take. 

And  with  respect  to  the  circumstances  of  life,  it  so  hap- 
pens that  it  has  been  my  fate  to  know  many  lands  and 

20  many  climates,  and  to  be  familiar,  by  personal  experience, 
with  almost  every  form  of  society,  from  the  uncivilized 
savage  of  Papua  and  Australia  and  the  civilized  savages 
of  the  slums  and  dens  of  the  poverty-stricken  parts  of  great 
cities,  to  those  who,  perhaps,  are  occasionally  the  some- 

25  what  over-civilized  members  of  our  upper  ten  thousand. 
And  I  have  never  found,  in  any  of  these  conditions  of  life, 
a  deficiency  of  something  which  was  attractive.  Savagery 
has  its  pleasures,  I  assure  you,  as  well  as  civilization, 
and  I  may  even  venture  to  confess — if  you  will  not  let 

30  a  whisper  of  the  matter  get  back  to  London,  where  I  am 
known — I  am  even  fain  to  confess,  that  sometimes  in  the 
din  and  throng  of  what  is  called  "  a  brilliant  reception  " 
the  vision  crosses  my  mind  of  waking  up  from  the  soft 
plank  which  has  afforded  me  satisfactory  sleep  during  the 


Science  and  Art  107 

hours  of  the  night,  in  the  bright  dawn  of  a  tropical 
morning,  when  my  comrades  were  yet  asleep,  when  every 
sound  was  hushed,  except  the  little  lap-lap  of  the  ripples 
against  the  sides  of  the  boat,  and  the  distant  twitter  of  the 
sea-bird  on  the  reef.  And  when  that  vision  crosses  my  5 
mind,  I  am  free  to  confess  I  desire  to  be  back  in  the  boat 
again.  So  that,  if  I  share  with  those  strange  persons  to 
whose  asserted,  but  still  hypothetical  existence  I  have  re- 
ferred, the  want  of  appreciation  of  forms  of  culture  other 
than  the  pursuit  of  physical  science,  all  I  can  say  is,  that  10 
it  is,  in  spite  of  my  constitution,  and  in  spite  of  my  ex- 
perience, that  such  should  be  my  fate. 

But  now  let  me  turn  to  another  point,  or  rather  to  two 
other  points,  with  which  I  propose  to  occupy  myself.  How 
far  does  the  experience  of  the  last  fourteen  years  justify  15 
the  estimate  which  I  ventured  to  put  forward  of  the  value 
of  scientific  culture,  and  of  the  share — the  increasing  share 
— which  it  must  take  in  ordinary  education?  Happily,  in 
respect  to  that  matter,  you  need  not  rely  upon  my  testi- 
mony. In  the  last  half-dozen  numbers  of  the  Journal  of  20 
Education,  you  will  find  a  series  of  very  interesting  and 
remarkable  papers,  by  gentlemen  who  are  practically  en- 
gaged in  the  business  of  education  in  our  great  public  and 
other  schools,  telling  us  what  is  doing  in  these  schools, 
and  what  is  their  experience  of  the  results  of  scientific  25 
education  there,  so  far  as  it  has  gone.  I  am  not  going  to 
trouble  you  with  an  abstract  of  those  papers,  which  are 
well  worth  your  study  in  their  fullness  and  completeness, 
but  I  have  copied  out  one  remarkable  passage,  because  it 
seems  to  me  so  entirely  to  bear  out  what  I  have  formerly  30 
ventured  to  say  about  the  value  of  science,  both  as  to  its 
subject-matter  and  as  to  the  discipline  which  the  learning 
of  science  involves.  It  is  from  a  paper  by  Mr.  Worthing- 
ton — one  of  the  masters  at  Clifton,  the  reputation  of  which 


io8  Selections  from  Huxley 

school  you  know  well,  and  at  the  head  of  which  is  an  old 
friend  of  mine,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wilson — to  whom  much 
credit  is  due  for  being  one  of  the  first,  as  I  can  say  from 
my  own  knowledge,  to  take  up  this  question  and  work 
5  it  into  practical  shape.  What  Mr.  Worthington  says  is 
this : 

"  It  is  not  easy  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of  the 
information  imparted  by  certain  branches  of  science;  it 
modifies  the  whole  criticism  of  life  made  in  maturer 

10  years.  The  study  has  often,  on  a  mass  of  boys,  a  certain 
influence  which,  I  think,  was  hardly  anticipated,  and  to 
which  a  good  deal  of  value  must  be  attached — an  influence 
as  much  moral  as  intellectual,  which  is  shown  in  the  in- 
creased and  increasing  respect  for  precision  of  statement, 

15  and  for  that  form  of  veracity  which  consists  in  the  ac- 
knowledgment of  difficulties.  It  produces  a  real  effect  to 
find  that  Nature  cannot  be  imposed  upon,  and  the  atten- 
tion given  to  experimental  lectures,  at  first  superficial  and 
curious  only,  soon  becomes  minute,  serious,  and  practical." 

20  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  could  not  have  chosen  better 
words  to  express — in  fact,  I  have,  in  other  words,  ex- 
pressed the  same  conviction  in  former  days — what  the  in- 
fluence of  scientific  teaching,  if  properly  carried  out, 
must  be. 

25  But  now  comes  the  question  of  properly  carrying  it  out, 
because,  when  I  hear  the  value  of  school  teaching  in 
physical  science  disputed,  my  first  impulse  is  to  ask  the 
disputer,  "What  have  you  known  about  it?"  and  he 
generally  tells  me  some  lamentable  case  of  failure.  Then 

30  I  ask,  "  What  are  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  and  how 
was  the  teaching  carried  out  ?  "  I  remember,  some  few 
years  ago,  hearing  of  the  head  master  of  a  large  school, 
who  had  expressed  great  dissatisfaction  with  the  adoption 


Science  and  Art  109 

of  the  teaching  of  physical  science — and  that  after  experi- 
ment. But  the  experiment  consisted  in  this — in  asking 
one  of  the  junior  masters  in  the  school  to  get  up  science, 
in  order  to  teach  it;  and  the  young  gentleman  went  away 
for  a  year  and  got  up  science  and  taught  it.  Well,  I  have  5 
no  doubt  that  the  result  was  as  disappointing  as  the 
head  master  said  it  was,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it 
ought  to  have  been  as  disappointing,  and  far  more  dis- 
appointing too;  for,  if  this  kind  of  instruction  is  to  be  of 
any  good  at  all,  if  it  is  not  to  be  less  than  no  good,  if  it  10 
is  to  take  the  place  of  that  which  is  already  of  some  good, 
then  there  are  several  points  which  must  be  attended  to. 

And  the  first  of  these  is  the  proper  selection  of  topics, 
the  second  is  practical  teaching,  the  third  is  practical  teach- 
ers, and  the  fourth  is  sufficiency  of  time.     If  these  four  15 
points  are  not  carefully  attended  to  by  anybody  who  un- 
dertakes the  teaching  of  physical  science  in  schools,  my 
advice  to  him  is,  to  let  it  alone.     I  will  not  dwell  at  any 
length  upon  the  first  point,  because  there  is  a  general  con- 
sensus of  opinion  as  to  the  nature  of  the  topics  which  20 
should  be  chosen.    The  second  point — practical  teaching — 
is  one  of  great  importance,  because  it  requires  more  capi- 
tal to  set  it  agoing,  demands  more  time,  and,  last,  but  by 
no  means  least,  it  requires  much  more  personal  exertion 
and   trouble   on   the   part   of   those  professing   to   teach,  25 
than  is  the  case  with  other  kinds  of  instruction. 

When  I  accepted  the  invitation  to  be  here  this  evening, 
your  secretary  was  good  enough  to  send  me  the  addresses 
which  have  been  given  by  distinguished  persons  who  have 
previously  occupied  this  chair.  I  don't  know  whether  he  30 
had  a  malicious  desire  to  alarm  me ;  but,  however  that  may 
be,  I  read  the  addresses,  and  derived  the  greatest  pleasure 
and  profit  from  some  of  them,  and  from  none  more  than 
from  the  one  given  by  the  great  historian,  Mr.  Freeman, 


no  Selections  from  Huxley 

which  delighted  me  most  of  all;  and,  if  I  had  not  been 
ashamed  of  plagiarizing,  and  if  I  had  not  been  sure  of 
being  found  out,  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  copied 
very  much  of  what  Mr.  Freeman  said,  simply  putting  in 
5  the  word  science  for  history.  There  was  one  notable  pas- 
sage: "The  difference  between  good  and  bad  teaching 
mainly  consists  in  this,  whether  the  words  used  are  really 
clothed  with  a  meaning  or  not."  And  Mr.  Freeman  gives 
a  remarkable  example  of  this.  He  says,  when  a  little  girl 

10  was  asked  where  Turkey  was,  she  answered  that  it  was  in 
the  yard  with  the  other  fowls,  and  that  showed  she  had  a 
definite  idea  connected  with  the  word  Turkey,  and  was,  so 
far,  worthy  of  praise.  I  quite  agree  with  that  commenda- 
tion; but  what  a  curious  thing  it  is  that  one  should  now 

15  find  it  necessary  to  urge  that  this  is  the  be-all  and  end-all 
of  scientific  instruction — the  sine  qua  non,  the  absolutely 
necessary  condition, — and  yet  that  it  was  insisted  upon 
more  than  two  hundred  years  ago  by  one  of  the  greatest 
men  science  ever  possessed  in  this  country,  William  Har- 

20  vey.  Harvey  wrote,  or  at  least  published,  only  two 
small  books,  one  of  which  is  the  well-known  treatise  on  the 
circulation  of  the  blood.  The  other,  the  Exercitationes  de 
Generatione,  is  less  known,  but  not  less  remarkable.  And 
not  the  least  valuable  part  of  it  is  the  preface,  in  which 

25  there  occurs  this  passage :  "  Those  who,  reading  the  words 
of  authors,  do  not  form  sensible  images  of  the  things 
referred  to,  obtain  no  true  ideas,  but  conceive  false 
imaginations  and  inane  phantasms."  You  see,  William 
Harvey's  words  are  just  the  same  in  substance  as  those 

30  of  Mr.  Freeman,  only  they  happen  to  be  rather  more  than 
two  centuries  older.  So  that  what  I  am  now  saying  has 
its  application  elsewhere  than  in  science ;  but  assuredly  in 
science  the  condition  of  knowing,  of  your  own  knowledge, 
things  which  you  talk  about,  is  absolutely  imperative. 


Science  and  Art  in 

I  remember,  in  my  youth,  there  were  detestable  books 
which  ought  to  have  been  burned  by  the  hands  of  the  com- 
mon hangman,  for  they  contained  questions  and  answers  to 
be  learned  by  heart,  of  this  sort,  "What  is  a  horse? 
The  horse  is  termed  Equus  caballus;  belongs  to  the  5 
class  Mammalia;  order,  Pachydermata;  family,  Solidun- 
gula."  Was  any  human  being  wiser  for  learning  that 
magic  formula?  Was  he  not  more  foolish,  inasmuch  as 
he  was  deluded  into  taking  words  for  knowledge?  It  is 
that  kind  of  teaching  that  one  wants  to  get  rid  of,  and  10 
banished  out  of  science.  Make  it  as  little  as  you  like,  but, 
unless  that  which  is  taught  is  based  on  actual  observation 
and  familiarity  with  facts,  it  is  better  left  alone. 

There  are  a  great  many  people  who  imagine  that  ele- 
mentary teaching  might  be  properly  carried  out  by  teachers  15 
provided  with  only  elementary  knowledge.  Let  me  assure 
you  that  that  is  the  profoundest  mistake  in  the  world. 
There  is  nothing  so  difficult  to  do  as  to  write  a  good  ele- 
mentary book,  and  there  is  nobody  so  hard  to  teach 
properly  and  well  as  people  who  know  nothing  about  a  20 
subject,  and  I  will  tell  you  why.  If  I  address  an  audi- 
ence of  persons  who  are  occupied  in  the  same  line  of  work 
as  myself,  I  can  assume  that  they  know  a  vast  deal,  and 
that  they  can  find  out  the  blunders  I  make.  If  they  don't 
it  is  their  fault  and  not  mine;  but  when  I  appear  before  25 
a  body  of  people  who  know  nothing  about  the  matter,  who 
take  for  gospel  whatever  I  say,  surely  it  becomes  needful 
that  I  consider  what  I  say,  make  sure  that  it  will  bear 
examination,  and  that  I  do  not  impose  upon  the  credulity 
of  those  who  have  faith  in  me.  In  the  second  place,  it  30 
involves  that  difficult  process  of  knowing  what  you  know 
so  well  that  you  can  talk  about  it  as  you  can  talk  about 
your  ordinary  business.  A  man  can  always  talk  about  his 
own  business.  He  can  always  make  it  plain;  but,  if  his 


112  Selections  from  Huxley 

knowledge  is  hearsay,  he  is  afraid  to  go  beyond  what  he 
has  recollected,  and  put  it  before  those  that  are  ignorant 
in  such  a  shape  that  they  shall  comprehend  it.  That  is 
why,  to  be  a  good  elementary  teacher,  to  teach  the  ele- 

5  ments  of  any  subject,  requires  most  careful  consideration, 
if  you  are  a  master  of  the  subject;  and,  if  you  are  not  a 
master  of  it,  it  is  needful  you  should  familiarize  yourself 
with  so  much  as  you  are  called  upon  to  teach — soak  your- 
self in  it,  so  to  speak — until  you  know  it  as  part  of  your 

10  daily  life  and  daily  knowledge,  and  then  you  will  be  able 
to  teach  anybody.  That  is  what  I  mean  by  practical  teach- 
ers, and,  although  the  deficiency  of  such  teachers  is  being 
remedied  to  a  large  extent,  I  think  it  is  one  which  has 
long  existed,  and  which  has  existed  from  no  fault  of  those 

15  who  undertook  to  teach,  but  because,  until  the  last  score  of 
years,  it  absolutely  was  not  possible  for  any  one  in  a  great 
many  branches  of  science,  whatever  his  desire  might  be,  to 
get  instruction  which  would  enable  him  to  be  a  good 
teacher  of  elementary  things.  All  that  is  being  rapidly 

20  altered,  and  I  hope  it  will  soon  become  a  thing  of  the 
past. 

The  last  point  I  have  referred  to  is  the  question  of  the 
sufficiency  of  time.  And  here  comes  the  rub.  The  teach- 
ing of  science  needs  time,  as  any  other  subject;  but  it 

25  needs  more  time  proportionally  than  other  subjects,  for  the 
amount  of  work  obviously  done,  if  the  teaching  is  to  be,  as 
I  have  said,  practical.  Work  done  in  a  laboratory  involves 
a  good  deal  of  expenditure  of  time  without  always  an  ob- 
vious result,  because  we  do  not  see  anything  of  that  quiet 

30  process  of  soaking  the  facts  into  the  mind,  which  takes 
place  through  the  organs  of  the  senses.  On  this  ground 
there  must  be  ample  time  given  to  science  teaching. 
What  that  amount  of  time  should  be  is  a  point  which  I 
need  not  discuss  now;  in  fact,  it  is  a  point  which  cannot 


Science  and  Art  113 

be  settled  until  one  has  made  up  one's  mind  about  various 
other  questions. 

All,  then,  that  I  have  to  ask  for,  on  behalf  of  the  scien- 
tific people,   if  I   may  venture  to  speak   for  more  than 
myself,  is  that  you  should  put  scientific  teaching  into  what  5 
statesmen  call  the  condition  of  "  the  most  favored  nation  " ; 
that  is  to  say,  that  it  shall  have  as  large  a  share  of  the 
time  given  to  education  as  any  other  principal  subject. 
You  may  say  that  that  is  a  very  vague  statement,  because 
the  value  of  the  allotment  of  time,  under  those  circum-  10 
stances,  depends  upon  the  number  of  principal  subjects. 
It  is  AT  the  time,  and  an  unknown  quantity  of  principal 
subjects  dividing  that,  and  science  taking  shares  with  the 
rest.    That  shows  that  we  cannot  deal  with  this  question 
fully  until  we  have  made  up  our  minds  as  to  what  the  15 
principal  subjects  of  education  ought  to  be. 

I  know  quite  well  that  launching  myself  into  this  dis- 
cussion is  a  very  dangerous  operation;  that  it  is  a  very 
large  subject,  and  one  which  is  difficult  to  deal  with,  how- 
ever much  I  may  trespass  upon  your  patience  in  the  time  20 
allotted  to  me.  But  the  discussion  is  so  fundamental, 
it  is  so  completely  impossible  to  make  up  one's  mind  on 
these  matters  until  one  has  settled  the  question,  that  I 
will  even  venture  to  make  the  experiment.  A  great 
lawyer-statesman  and  philosopher  of  a  former  age — I  mean  25 
Francis  Bacon — said  that  truth  came  out  of  error  much 
more  rapidly  than  it  came  out  of  confusion.  There  is  a 
wonderful  truth  in  that  saying.  Next  to  being  right  in 
this  world,  the  best  of  all  things  is  to  be  clearly  and 
definitely  wrong,  because  you  will  come  out  somewhere.  30 
If  you  go  buzzing  about  between  right  and  wrong,  vibrat- 
ing and  fluctuating,  you  come  out  nowhere ;  but  if  you  are 
absolutely  and  thoroughly  and  persistently  wrong,  you 
must,  some  of  these  days,  have  the  extreme  good  fortune 


ii4  Selections  from  Huxley 

of  knocking  your  head  against  a  fact,  and  that  sets  you  all 

straight    again.      So    I    will    not    trouble    myself    as    to 

whether  I  may  be  right  or  wrong  in  what  I  am  about  to 

,  say,   but  at  any  rate  I   hope   to  be  clear  and   definite  ; 

5  and  then  you  will  be  able  to  judge  for  yourselves  whether, 

in  following  out  the  train  of  thought  I  have  to  introduce, 

you  knock  your  heads  against  facts  or  not. 

I  take  it  that  the  whole  object  of  education  is,  in  the 
first  place,  to  train  the  faculties  of  the  young  in  such  a 

10  manner  as  to  give  their  possessors  the  best  chance  of  being 
happy  and  useful  in  their  generation;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  to  furnish  them  with  the  most  important  portions  of 
that  immense  capitalized  experience  of  the  human  race 
which  we  call  knowledge  of  various  kinds.  I  am  using  the 

15  term  knowledge  in  its  widest  possible  sense ;  and  the  ques- 
tion is,  what  subjects  to  select  by  training  and  discipline, 
in  which  the  object  I  have  just  defined  may  be  best 
attained. 

I  must  call  your  attention  further  to  this  fact,  that  all 

20  the  subjects  of  our  thoughts — all  feelings  and  propositions 
(leaving  aside  our  sensations  as  the  mere  materials  and 
occasions  of  thinking  and  feeling),  all  our  mental  furniture 
— may  be  classified  under  one  of  two  heads — as  either 
within  the  province  of  the  intellect,  something  that  can  be 

25  put  into  propositions  and  affirmed  or  denied ;  or  as  within 
the  province  of  feeling,  or  that  which,  before  the  name  was 
defiled,  was  called  the  aesthetic  side  of  our  nature,  and 
which  can  neither  be  proved  nor  disproved,  but  only  felt 
and  known. 

30  According  to  the  classification  which  I  have  put  before 
you,  then,  the  subjects  of  all  knowledge  are  divisible  into 
the  two  groups,  matters  of  science  and  matters  of  art ;  for 
all  things  with  which  the  reasoning  faculty  alone  is  occu- 
pied, come  under  the  province  of  science ;  and  in  the  broad- 


Science  and  Art  115 

est  sense,  and  not  in  the  narrow  and  technical  sense  in 
which  we  are  now  accustomed  to  use  the  word  art,  all 
things  feelable,  all  things  which  stir  our  emotions,  come 
under  the  term  of  art,  in  the  sense  of  the  subject-matter 
of  the  aesthetic  faculty.  So  that  we  are  shut  up  to  this —  5 
that  the  business  of  education  is,  in  the  first  place,  to  pro- 
vide the  young  with  the  means  and  the  habit  of  observa- 
tion; and,  secondly,  to  supply  the  subject-matter  of 
knowledge  either  in  the  shape  of  science  or  of  art,  or  of 
both  combined.  10 

Now,  it  is  a  very  remarkable  fact — but  it  is  true  of  most 
things  in  this  world — that  there  is  hardly  anything  one- 
sided, or  of  one  nature;  and  it  is  not  immediately  obvious 
what  of  the  things  that  interest  us  may  be  regarded  as  pure 
science,  and  what  may  be  regarded  as  pure  art.  It  may  be  15 
that  there  are  some  peculiarly  constituted  persons  who, 
before  they  have  advanced  far  into  the  depths  of  geometry, 
find  artistic  beauty  about  it;  but,  taking  the  generality  of 
mankind,  I  think  it  may  be  said  that,  when  they  begin  to 
learn  mathematics,  their  whole  souls  are  absorbed  in  trac-  20 
ing  the  connection  between  the  premises  and  the  conclusion, 
and  that  to  them  geometry  is  pure  science.  So  I  think  it 
may  be  said  that  mechanics  and  osteology  are  pure  science. 
On  the  other  hand,  melody  in  music  is  pure  art.  You  can- 
not reason  about  it;  there  is  no  proposition  involved  in  it.  25 
So,  again,  in  the  pictorial  art,  an  arabesque,  or  a  "  har- 
mony in  gray,"  touches  none  but  the  aesthetic  faculty.  But 
a  great  mathematician,  and  even  many  persons  who  are  not 
great  mathematicians,  will  tell  you  that  they  derive  im- 
mense pleasure  from  geometrical  reasonings.  Everybody  30 
knows  mathematicians  speak  of  solutions  and  problems  as 
"  elegant,"  and  they  tell  you  that  a  certain  mass  of  mystic 
symbols  is  "  beautiful,  quite  lovely."  Well,  you  do  not 
see  it.  They  do  see  it,  because  the  intellectual  process,  the 


1 1 6  Selections  from  Huxley 

process  of  comprehending  the  reasons  symbolized  by  these 
figures  and  these  signs,  confers  upon  them  a  sort  of  pleas- 
ure, such  as  an  artist  has  in  visual  symmetry.  Take  a 
science  of  which  I  may  speak  with  more  confidence,  and 

5  which  is  the  most  attractive  of  those  I  am  concerned  with. 
It  is  what  we  call  morphology,  which  consists  in  tracing 
out  the  unity  in  variety  of  the  infinitely  diversified  struc- 
tures of  animals  and  plants.  I  cannot  give  you  any  example 
of  a  thorough  aesthetic  pleasure  more  intensely  real  than  a 

10  pleasure  of  this  kind — the  pleasure  which  arises  in  one's 
mind  when  a  whole  mass  of  different  structures  run  into 
one  harmony  as  the  expression  of  a  central  law.  That  is 
where  the  province  of  art  overlays  and  embraces  the  prov- 
ince of  intellect.  And,  if  I  may  venture  to  express  an 

15  opinion  on  such  a  subject,  the  great  majority  of  forms  of 
art  are  not  in  a  sense  what  I  just  now  defined  them  to  be 
— pure  art;  but  they  derive  much  of  their  quality  from 
simultaneous  and  even  unconscious  excitement  of  the  in- 
tellect. 

20  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  was  very  fond  of  music,  and  I  am 
so  now;  and  it  so  happened  that  I  had  the  opportunity  of 
hearing  much  good  music.  Among  other  things,  I  had 
abundant  opportunities  of  hearing  that  great  old  master, 
Sebastian  Bach.  I  remember  perfectly  well — though  I 

25  knew  nothing  about  music  then,  and,  I  may  add,  know 
nothing  whatever  about  it  now — the  intense  satisfaction 
and  delight  which  I  had  in  listening,  by  the  hour  together, 
to  Bach's  fugues.  It  is  a  pleasure  which  remains  with  me, 
I  am  glad  to  think ;  but,  of  late  years,  I  have  tried  to  find 

30  out  the  why  and  wherefore,  and  it  has  often  occurred  to  me 
that  the  pleasure  derived  from  musical  compositions  of  this 
kind  is  essentially  of  the  same  nature  as  that  which  is  de- 
rived from  pursuits  which  are  commonly  regarded  as  purely 
intellectual.  I  mean,  that  the  source  of  pleasure  is  exactly 


Science  and  Art  117 

the  same  as  in  most  of  my  problems  in  morphology — that 
you  have  the  theme  in  one  of  the  old  master's  works  fol- 
lowed out  in  all  its  endless  variations,  always  appearing 
and  always  reminding  you  of  unity  in  variety.  So  in  paint- 
ing; what  is  called  "truth  to  nature"  is  the  intellectual  5 
element  coming  in,  and  truth  to  nature  depends  entirely 
upon  the  intellectual  culture  of  the  person  to  whom  art 
is  addressed.  If  you  are  in  Australia,  you  may  get  credit 
for  being  a  good  artist — I  mean  among  the  natives — if  you 
draw  a  kangaroo  after  a  fashion.  But,  among  men  of  10 
higher  civilization,  the  intellectual  knowledge  we  possess 
brings  its  criticism  into  our  appreciation  of  works  of  art, 
and  we  are  obliged  to  satisfy  it,  as  well  as  the  mere  sense 
of  beauty  in  color  and  in  outline.  And  so,  the  higher  the 
culture  and  information  of  those  whom  art  addresses,  the  15 
more  exact  and  precise  must  be  what  we  call  its  "  truth  to 
nature." 

If  we  turn  to  literature,  the  same  thing  is  true,  and  you 
find  works  of  literature  which  may  be  said  to  be  pure  art. 
A  little  song  of  Shakespeare  or  of  Goethe  is  pure  art ;  it  is  20 
exquisitely  beautiful,  although  its  intellectual  content  may 
be  nothing.  A  series  of  pictures  is  made  to  pass  before 
your  mind  by  the  meaning  of  words,  and  the  effect  is  a 
melody  of  ideas.  Nevertheless,  the  great  mass  of  the 
literature  we  esteem  is  valued,  not  merely  because  of  hav-  25 
ing  artistic  form,  but  because  of  its -intellectual  content; 
and  the  value  is  the  higher  the  more  precise,  distinct,  and 
true  is  that  intellectual  content.  And,  if  you  will  let  me 
for  a  moment  speak  of  the  very  highest  forms  of  literature, 
do  we  not  regard  them  as  highest  simply  because  the  30 
more  we  know  the  truer  they  seem,  and  the  more  com- 
petent we  are  to  appreciate  beauty  the  more  beautiful 
they  are?  No  man  ever  understands  Shakespeare  until  he 
is  old,  though  the  youngest  may  admire  him,  the  reason 


Ii8  Selections  from  Huxley 

being  that  he  satisfies  the  artistic  instinct  of  the  youngest 
and  harmonizes  with  the  ripest  and  richest  experience  of 
the  oldest. 

I  have  said  this  much  to  draw  your  attention  to  what, 

5  in  my  mind,  lies  at  the  root  of  all  this  matter,  and  at  the 
understanding  of  one  another  by  the  men  of  science  on  the 
one  hand,  and  the  men  of  literature,  and  history,  and  art, 
on  the  other.  It  is  not  a  question  whether  one  order  of 
study  or  another  should  predominate.  It  is  a  question  of 

10  what  topics  of  education  you  shall  select  which  will  com- 
bine all  the  needful  elements  in  such  due  proportion  as  to 
give  the  greatest  amount  of  food,  support,  and  encourage- 
ment to  those  faculties  which  enable  us  to  appreciate  truth, 
and  to  profit  by  those  sources  of  innocent  happiness  which 

15  are  open  to  us,  and  at  the  same  time,  to  avoid  that  which  is 
bad,  and  coarse,  and  ugly,  and  keep  clear  of  the  multitude 
of  pitfalls  and  dangers  which  beset  those  who  break 
through  the  natural  or  moral  laws. 

I  address  myself,  in  this  spirit,  to  the  consideration  of 

20  the  question  of  the  value  of  purely  literary  education.  Is 
it  good  and  sufficient,  or  is  it  insufficient  and  bad  ?  Well, 
here  I  venture  to  say  that  there  are  literary  educations  and 
literary  educations.  If  I  am  to  understand  by  that  term 
the  education  that  was  current  in  the  great  majority  of 

25  middle-class  schools,  and  upper  schools  too,  in  this  country 
when  I  was  a  boy,  and  which  consisted  absolutely  and 
almost  entirely  in  keeping  boys  for  eight  or  ten  years  at 
learning  the  rules  of  Latin  and  Greek  grammar,  constru- 
ing certain  Latin  and  Greek  authors,  and  possibly  making 

30  verses  which,  had  they  been  English  verses,  would  have 
been  condemned  as  abominable  doggerel — if  that  is  what 
you  mean  by  literary  education,  then  I  say  it  is  scandal- 
ously insufficient  and  almost  worthless.  My  reason  for 
saying  so  is  not  from  the  point  of  view  of  science  at  all, 


Science  and  Art  119 

but  from  the  point  of  view  of  literature.  I  say  the  thing 
professes  to  be  literary  education  that  is  not  a  literary  edu- 
cation at  all.  It  was  not  literature  at  all  that  was  taught, 
but  science  in  a  very  bad  form.  It  is  quite  obvious  that 
grammar  is  science  and  not  literature.  The  analysis  of  a  5 
text  by  the  help  of  the  rules  of  grammar  is  just  as  much 
a  scientific  operation  as  the  analysis  of  a  chemical  com- 
pound by  the  help  of  the  rules  of  chemical  analysis.  There 
is  nothing  that  appeals  to  the  aesthetic  faculty  in  that 
operation;  and  I  ask  multitudes  of  men  of  my  own  age,  10 
who  went  through  this  process,  whether  they  ever  had  a 
conception  of  art  or  literature  until  they  obtained  it  for 
themselves  after  leaving  school?  Then  you  may  say,  "If 
that  is  so,  if  the  education  was  scientific,  why  cannot  you 
be  satisfied  with  it?"  I  say,  because  although  it  is  a  15 
scientific  training,  it  is  of  the  most  inadequate  and  inap- 
propriate kind.  If  there  is  any  good  at  all  in  scientific 
education  it  is  that  men  should  be  trained,  as  I  said  before, 
to  know  things  for  themselves  at  first  hand,  and  that 
they  should  understand  every  step  of  the  reason  of  that  20 
which  they  do. 

I  desire  to  speak  with  the  utmost  respect  of  that  science 
— philology — of  which  grammar  is  a  part  and  parcel;  yet 
everybody  knows  that  grammar,  as  it  is  usually  learned  at 
school,  affords  no  scientific  training.  It  is  taught  just  as  25 
you  would  teach  the  rules  of  chess  or  draughts.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  I  am  to  understand  by  a  literary  education 
the  study  of  the  literatures  of  either  ancient  or  modern 
nations — but  especially  those  of  antiquity,  and  especially 
that  of  ancient  Greece;  if  this  literature  is  studied,  not  30 
merely  from  the  point  of  view  of  philological  science,  and 
its  practical  application  to  the  interpretation  of  texts,  but 
as  an  exemplification  of  and  commentary  upon  the  prin- 
ciples of  art ;  if  you  look  upon  the  literature  of  a  people  as 


I2O  Selections  from  Huxley 

a  chapter  in  the  development  of  the  human  mind,  if  you 
work  out  this  in  a  broad  spirit,  and  with  such  collateral 
references  to  morals  and  politics,  and  physical  geography, 
and  the  like  as  are  needful  to  make  you  comprehend  what 
5  the  meaning  of  ancient  literature  and  civilization  is — 
then,  assuredly,  it  affords  a  splendid  and  noble  education. 
But  I  still  think  it  is  susceptible  of  improvement,  and  that 
no  man  will  ever  comprehend  the  real  secret  of  the  differ- 
ence between  the  ancient  world  and  our  present  time, 

10  unless  he  has  learned  to  see  the  difference  which  the  late 
development  of  physical  science  has  made  between  the 
thought  of  this  day  and  the  thought  of  that,  and  he  will 
never  see  that  difference,  unless  he  has  some  practical  in- 
sight into  some  branches  of  physical  science ;  and  you  must 

15  remember  that  a  literary  education  such  as  that  which  I 
have  just  referred  to,  is  out  of  the  reach  of  those  whose 
school  life  is  cut  short  at  sixteen  or  seventeen. 

But,  you  will  say,  all  this  is  fault-finding;  let  us  hear 
what  you  have  in  the  way  of  positive  suggestion.    Then  I 

20  am  bound  to  tell  you  that,  if  I  could  make  a  clean  sweep 
of  everything — I  am  very  glad  I  cannot  because  I  might, 
and  probably  should,  make  mistakes — but  if  I  could  make 
a  clean  sweep  of  everything  and  start  afresh,  I  should,  in 
the  first  place,  secure  that  training  of  the  young  in  read- 

25  ing  and  writing,  and  in  the  habit  of  attention  and  ob- 
servation, both  to  that  which  is  told  them,  and  that  which 
they  see,  which  everybody  agrees  to.  But  in  addition  to 
that  I  should  make  it  absolutely  necessary  for  everybody, 
for  a  longer  or  shorter  period,  to  learn  to  draw.  Now, 

30  you  may  say,  there  are  some  people  who  cannot  draw, 
however  much  they  may  be  taught.  I  deny  that  in  toto, 
because  I  never  yet  met  with  anybody  who  could  not 
learn  to  write.  Writing  is  a  form  of  drawing;  therefore 
if  you  give  the  same  attention  and  trouble  to  drawing 


Science  and  Art  121 

as  you  do  to  writing,  depend  upon  it,  there  is  nobody  who 
cannot  be  made  to  draw  more  or  less  well.  Do  not  mis- 
apprehend me.  I  do  not  say  for  one  moment  you  would 
make  an  artistic  draughtsman.  Artists  are  not  made ;  they 
grow.  You  may  improve  the  natural  faculty  in  that  5 
direction,  but  you  cannot  make  it ;  but  you  can  teach  simple 
drawing,  and  you  will  find  it  an  implement  of  learning  of 
extreme  value.  I  do  not  think  its  value  can  be  exag- 
gerated, because  it  gives  you  the  means  of  training  the 
young  in  attention  and  accuracy,  which  are  the  two  things  10 
in  which  all  mankind  are  more  deficient  than  in  any 
other  mental  quality  whatever.  The  whole  of  my  life  has 
been  spent  in  trying  to  give  my  proper  attention  to  things 
and  to  be  accurate,  and  I  have  not  succeeded  as  well  as  I 
could  wish;  and  other  people,  I  am  afraid,  are  not  much  15 
more  fortunate.  You  cannot  begin  this  habit  too  early, 
and  I  consider  there  is  nothing  of  so  great  a  value  as 
the  habit  of  drawing,  to  secure  those  two  desirable  ends. 

Then  we  come  to  the  subject-matter,  whether  scientific 
or  aesthetic,  of  education,  and  I  should  naturally  have  no  20 
question  at  all  about  teaching  the  elements  of  physical 
science  of  the  kind  I  have  sketched,  in  a  practical  manner; 
but  among  scientific  topics,  using  the  word  scientific  in  the 
broadest  sense,  I  would  also  include  the  elements  of  the 
theory  of  morals  and  of  that  of  political  and  social  life,  25 
which,  strangely  enough,  it  never  seems  to  occur  to  any- 
body to  teach  a  child.    I  would  have  the  history  of  our  own 
country,  and  of  all  the  influences  which  have  been  brought 
to  bear  upon  it,  with  incidental  geography,  not  as  a  mere 
chronicle  of  reigns  and  battles,  but  as  a  chapter  in  the  30 
development  of  the  race,  and  the  history  of  civilization. 

Then  with  respect  to  aesthetic  knowledge  and  discipline, 
we  have  happily  in  the  English  language  one  of  the  most 
magnificent  storehouses  of  artistic  beauty  and  of  models  of 


122  Selections  from  Huxley 

literary  excellence  which  exists  in  the  world  at  the  present 
time.  I  have  said  before,  and  I  repeat  it  here,  that  if  a 
man  cannot  get  literary  culture  of  the  highest  kind  out  of 
his  Bible,  and  Chaucer,  and  Shakespeare,  and  Milton,  and 
5  Hobbes,  and  Bishop  Berkeley,  to  mention  only  a  few  of 
our  illustrious  writers — I  say,  if  he  cannot  get  it  out  of 
those  writers,  he  cannot  get  it  out  of  anything;  and  I 
would  assuredly  devote  a  very  large  portion  of  the  time 
of  every  English  child  to  the  careful  study  of  the  models 

10  of  English  writing  of  such  varied  and  wonderful  kind  as 
we  possess,  and,  what  is  still  more  important  and  still 
more  neglected,  the  habit  of  using  that  language  with 
precision,  with  force,  and  with  art.  I  fancy  we  are  almost 
the  only  nation  in  the  world  who  seem  to  think  that  com- 

15  position  comes  by  nature.  The  French  attend  to  their 
own  language,  the  Germans  study  theirs;  but  Englishmen 
do  not  seem  to  think  it  is  worth  their  while.  Nor  would 
I  fail  to  include,  in  the  course  of  study  I  am  sketching, 
translations  of  all  the  best  works  of  antiquity,  or  of  the 

20  modern  world.  It  is  a  very  desirable  thing  to  read  Homer 
in  Greek;  but  if  you  don't  happen  to  know  Greek,  the 
next  best  thing  we  can  do  is  to  read  as  good  a  transla- 
tion of  it  as  we  have  recently  been  furnished  with  in 
prose.  You  won't  get  all  you  would  get  from  the  original, 

25  but  you  may  get  a  great  deal ;  and  to  refuse  to  know  this 
great  deal  because  you  cannot  get  all,  seems  to  be  as 
sensible  as  for  a  hungry  man  to  refuse  bread  because 
he  cannot  get  partridge.  Finally,  I  would  add  instruc- 
tion in  either  music  or  painting,  or,  if  the  child  should 

30  be  so  unhappy,  as  sometimes  happens,  as  to  have  no 
faculty  for  either  of  those,  and  no  possibility  of  doing 
anything  in  any  artistic  sense  with  them,  then  I  would  see 
what  could  be  done  with  literature  alone;  but  I  would 
provide,  in  the  fullest  sense,  for  the  development  of  the 


Science  and  Art  123 

aesthetic  side  of  the  mind.  In  my  judgment,  those  are 
all  the  essentials  of  education  for  an  English  child.  With 
that  outfit,  such  as  it  might  be  made  in  the  time  given  to 
education  which  is  within  the  reach  of  nine-tenths  of  the 
population — with  that  outfit,  an  Englishman,  within  the  5 
limits  of  English  life,  is  fitted  to  go  anywhere,  to  occupy 
the  highest  positions,  to  fill  the  highest  offices  of  the  State, 
and  to  become  distinguished  in  practical  pursuits,  in  sci- 
ence, or  in  art.  For,  if  he  have  the  opportunity  to  learn 
all  those  things,  and  have  his  mind  disciplined  in  the  10 
various  directions  the  teaching  of  those  topics  would  have 
necessitated,  then,  assuredly,  he  will  be  able  to  pick  up,  on 
his  road  through  life,  all  the  rest  of  the  intellectual  bag- 
gage he  wants. 

If  the  educational  time  at  our  disposition  were  sufficient  15 
there  are  one  or  two  things  I  would  add  to  those  I  have 
just  now  called  the  essentials;  and  perhaps  you  will  be 
surprised  to  hear,  though  I   hope  you  will  not,   that  I 
should  add,  not  more  science,  but  one,  or  if  possible,  two 
languages.     The  knowledge  of  some  other  language  than  20 
one's  own  is,  in  fact,  of  singular  intellectual  value.    Many 
of  the  faults  and  mistakes  of  the  ancient  philosophers  are 
traceable  to  the  fact  that  they  knew  no  language  but  their 
own,  and  were  often  led  into  confusing  the  symbol  with 
the  thought  which  it  embodied.     I  think  it  is  Locke  who  25 
says  that  one-half  of  the  mistakes  of  philosophers  have 
arisen  from  questions  about  words;  and  one  of  the  safest 
ways  of  delivering  yourself  from  the  bondage  of  words 
is,  to  know  how  ideas  look  in  words  to  which  you  are 
not  accustomed.     That  is  one   reason   for  the  study  of  30 
language;  another  reason  is,  that  it  opens  new  fields  in 
art  and  in  science.    Another  is  the  practical  value  of  such 
knowledge;  and  yet  another  is  this,  that  if  your  languages 
are  properly  chosen,  from  the  time  of  learning  the  addi- 


124  Selections  from  Huxley 

tional  languages  you  will  know  your  own  language  better 
than  ever  you  did.  So,  I  say,  if  the  time  given  to  educa- 
tion permits,  add  Latin  and  German.  Latin,  because  it  is 
the  key  to  nearly  one-half  of  English  and  to  all  the  Ro- 
5  mance  languages;  and  German,  because  it  is  the  key  to 
almost  all  the  remainder  of  English,  and  helps  you  to 
understand  a  race  from  whom  most  of  us  have  sprung, 
and  who  have  a  character  and  a  literature  of  a  fateful 
force  in  the  history  of  the  world,  such  as  probably  has 

10  been  allotted  to  those  of  no  other  people,  except  the  Jews, 
the  Greeks,  and  ourselves.  Beyond  these,  the  essential  and 
the  eminently  desirable  elements  of  all  education,  let  each 
man  take  up  his  special  line — the  historian  devote  himself 
to  his  history,  the  man  of  science  to  his  science,  the 

15  man  of  letters  to  his  culture  of  that  kind,  and  the  artist  to 
his  special  pursuit. 

Bacon  has  prefaced  some  of  his  works  with  no  more  than 
this:  Franciscus  Bacon  sic  cogitavit;  let  sic  cogitavi  be  the 
epilogue   to  what   I    have  ventured   to   address  to   you 
20  to-night. 


NOTES  AND  COMMENT 


NOTES  AND  COMMENT 

(Heavy  numerals  refer  to  page;  light  ones  to  line) 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
(See  Introduction  pp.  xix-xx) 

3,  6.  Bishop  Butler.  Joseph  Butler  (1692-1752),  Bishop 
of  Durham,  was  a  writer  of  great  power  and  influence.  His 
best  known  work,  Analogy  of  Religion,  Natural  and  Revealed, 
to  the  Constitution  and  Course  of  Nature,  is  frequently  mentioned 
by  Huxley. 

3,  10.  Auckland:  ten  miles  south  of  Durham. 

3,  17.  Pre-Boswellian  epoch:  the  age  in  which  biography 
was  less  personal  and  prying  than  it  came  to  be  after  1791, 
when  James  Boswell  (1740-1795)  published  his  Life  of  Samuel 
Johnson. 

3,  22.  "  Bene  qui  latuit,  bene  vixit."    From  Ovid :  "  Who- 
ever has   lived   unobserved  has   lived  well." 

4,  15.  Hyde    Park    Corner:    one    of   the    nine   gateways    to 
Hyde    Park,   two    and    a    quarter   miles    south   by   west   of   St. 
Paul's  Cathedral. 

4,  30-31.  Mellifluous    eloquence:    eloquence    that    flows    or 
drops  from  the  lips  like  honey.     It  is  said  that  when  Plato  was 
in  his  cradle  a  swarm  of  bees  lighted  on  his  mouth.     The  same 
story  is  told  of  St.  Ambrose  and  St.  Dominick. 

5,  7-8.  That    particular    Apostle:    Thomas,    the    doubting 
Apostle,  who  demanded   proof  before   he  would  believe.     See 
John  xx,  2$. 

6,  9.  Prince  George  of  Cambridge:  a  grandson  of  George 
III  and  Commander-in-chief  of  the  British  army. 

6,  15-16.  Herbert  Spencer   (1820-1903):  one  of  the  greatest 
philosophers   of   the   nineteenth   century.      He   was   an   intimate 
friend  of  Huxley,  to  whom  he  used  to  send   proofsheets  of  his 
biological  works  for  criticism.     He  applied  Darwin's  theory  of 
evolution  to  the  economic  and   institutional   life  of  man. 

7,  10.  Sydney:    capital    of    New    South    Wales,    Australia, 
visited  by  Huxley  on  the  voyage  of  the  Rattlesnake. 

127 


128  Notes  and  Comment 

7,  23.  In  partibus  infidelium:  "among  the  unfaithful." 

8,  9.  The    disagreeables:    a    humorous    equivalent    for    the 
disagreeable  things.     Compare  goods,  sweets,  bitters. 

8,  24.  "  Sweet  south  upon  a  bed  of  violets."  See  Twelfth 
Night,  I,  i,  '5. 

8,  29.  "Lehrjahre":   "school-years,"  or  "apprenticeship." 

9,  18-19.  My  first   scientific   paper.     The   title   was   On   a 
Hitherto    Undescribed   Structure   in   the   Human    Hair   Sheath. 
See  Introduction  ix. 

9,  34.  Strong:   presumptuous. 

10,  22.  Haslar  Hospital.     This  famous  retreat  for  invalid 
sailors  is  in  Gosport,  opposite  Portsmouth,  England. 

12,  22.  Middies:   abbreviation  for  midshipmen. 

12,  24.  Suites  a  Buffon:  "sequels  to  Buffon,"  or  "continua- 
tions of  Buffon's  works,"  a  series  of  scientific  monographs  pub- 
lished in  Paris  from  1834  to  *%57-  George  Louis  Leclerc  Buf- 
fon (1707-1788)  was  the  most  celebrated  French  naturalist  of 
the  eighteenth  century.  He  originated  the  phrars,  "  Le  style 
est  de  Phomme,"  which  is  usually  mistranslated  "The  style  is 
the  man." 

12,  28.  Noah.      See  Genesis  <viii,  7-8. 

12,  32.  Royal  Society:  incorporated  by  Charles  II  in  1662. 
Huxley  became  a  member  in  1851.     See  the  interesting  account 
of  the   origin   and   work  of  this   society   in  the  lecture   On  the 
Advisableness  of  Improving  Natural  Knowledge,  pages   30-34. 

13,  15.  Pere  Goriot:  a  famous  novel  by  Balzac  (1799-1850). 
13,  1 6.  "A  nous  deux":  "between  us  two";  that  is,  Lon- 
don and  I  must  fight  it  out. 

13,  19.  Professor  Tyndall.  John  Tyndall  (1820-1893), 
professor  of  natural  history  at  the  Royal  Institution  and  Fellow 
of  the  Royal  Society,  was  an  intimate  friend  of  Huxley  and 
famous  for  his  researches  in  heat,  light,  sound,  and  electricity. 
See  Huxley's  letters  to  him,  pages  22-24  and  page  26. 

13,  28.  Edward  Forbes.     His  death  in  1853  deprived  Hux- 
ley of  a  devoted  friend  who  had   already  served  him  in  many 
ways.     See   Introduction   ix-x.      Huxley   said   of   him,   in    1851: 
"  He  is  one  of  the  few  men   I   have  ever  met  to  whom  I   can 
feel  obliged  without  losing  a  particle  of  independence  or  self- 
respect." 

14,  9-10.  On  a  Friday  evening  at  the  Royal  Institution, 
in   1852.     The  Royal   Institution  was  incorporated  by  George 


Notes  and  Comment  129 

III,  January  13,  1800.  Its  purpose  was  to  facilitate,  by  lec- 
tures and  experiments,  the  application  of  science  to  the  com- 
mon needs  of  daily  life.  Huxley's  experience  on  this  eventful 
Friday  evening  is  thus  told  to  his  sister  (Life  and  Letters,  I, 
106-107) : 

"  It  was  the  first  lecture  I  had  ever  given  in  my  life,  and  to 
what  is  considered  the  best  audience  in  London.  As  nothing  ever 
works  up  my  energies  but  a  high  flight,  I  had  chosen  a  very  diffi- 
cult abstract  point,  in  my  view  of  which  I  stand  almost  alone. 
When  I  took  a  glimpse  into  the  theater  and  saw  it  full  of  faces, 
I  did  feel  most  amazingly  uncomfortable.  I  can  now  quite 
understand  what  it  is  to  be  going  to  be  hanged,  and  nothing 
but  the  necessity  of  the  case  prevented  me  from  running  away. 

"  However,  when  the  hour  struck,  in  I  marched,  and  began  to 
deliver  my  discourse.  For  ten  minutes  I  did  not  quite  know 
where  I  was,  but  by  degrees  I  got  used  to  it,  and  gradually 
gained  perfect  command  of  myself  and  of  my  subject.  I  be- 
lieve I  contrived  to  interest  my  audience,  and  upon  the  whole 
I  think  I  may  say  that  this  essay  was  successful. 

"  Thank  Heaven  I  can  say  so,  for  though  it  is  no  great  matter 
succeeding,  failing  would  have  been  a  bitter  annoyance  to  me. 
It  has  put  me  comfortably  at  my  ease  with  regard  to  all 
future  lecturings.  After  the  Royal  Institution  there  is  no 
audience  I  shall  ever  fear." 

14,  lo-n.  Malgre  moi:  "in  spite  of  myself." 

15,  7.  Popularization    of    science.      Huxley's    influence    in 
popularizing   Darwin's   work   was   recognized   by  Lord   Kelvin, 
when  he  presented  Huxley  with  the  Darwin  Medal  in  1894,  in 
these  words: 

"  To  the  world  at  large,  perhaps,  Mr.  Huxley's  share  in 
molding  the  thesis  of  Natural  Selection  is  less  well  known  than 
is  his  bold,  unwearied  exposition  and  defense  of  it  after  it 
had  been  made  public.  And,  indeed,  a  speculative  trifler,  revel- 
ing in  the  problems  of  the  '  might  have  been,'  would  find  a 
congenial  theme  in  the  inquiry  how  soon  what  we  now  call 
'  Darwinism '  would  have  met  with  the  acceptance  with  which 
it  has  met,  and  gained  the  power  which  it  has  gained,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  brilliant  advocacy  with  which  in  its  early  days  it 
was  expounded  to  all  classes  of  men. 

"That  advocacy  had  one  striking  mark:  while  it  made  or 
strove  to  make  clear  how  deep  the  new  view  went  down,  and 


130  Notes  and  Comment 

how  far  it  reached,  it  never  shrank  from  trying  to  make  equally 
clear  the  limit  beyond  which  it  could  not  go." — Life  and  Letters, 
I,  224. 

15,  10.  Ecclesiastical  spirit.  "The  antagonism  of  science," 
says  Huxley,  "  is  not  to  religion  but  to  the  heathen  survivals 
and  the  bad  philosophy  under  which  religion  herself  is  often 
well-nigh  crushed." 

15,  28.  New  Reformation.     Mrs.  Humphry  Ward  gave  this 
name  to  the  new  scientific  movement.     Huxley,  writing  to  his 
wife  in  1873,  says:  "The  part  I  have  to  play  is  not  to  found  a 
new   school   of  thought  or  to  reconcile   the   antagonisms  of  the 
old    schools.      We    are   in    the    midst   of    a    gigantic   movement 
greater  than  that  which   preceded   and   produced  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  really  only  the  continuation  of  that  movement.    .    .    . 
I  have  no  more  doubt  that  free  thought  will  win  in  the  long 
run  than  I  have  that  I  sit  here  writing  to  you." 

LETTERS 
(See   Introduction,   pp.   xx-xxi) 

16,  i.  Miss  Heathorn:  Miss  Henrietta  Anne  Heathorn,  whom 
Huxley  married  July   i,   1855.     See  Introduction  xi. 

16,  5.  Naughten:  a  fusion  of  naught  and  nothing. 

17,  3.  Sardonic    grin.      Homer   was    the    first    to    speak    of 
sardonic   laughter,   meaning   laughter  that  concealed   some   evil 
design.     Sardonic  still   has  this  sense,  but  Huxley  means  by  it 
not  malignant   but   strained,   forced,   unnatural,   not  proceeding 
from  real  gaiety. 

18,  14.  Duke  of  Wellington.    Arthur  Wellesley  (1769-1852) 
became   successively  baron,  viscount,   earl,  marquis,   and  finally 
Duke    of    Wellington.      After    his    victory    over    Napoleon    at 
Waterloo,    he   was   considered    the    greatest    soldier,    as    Nelson 
was  the  greatest  sailor,  that  England  had  produced.     In  the  ode 
to  which  Huxley  alludes  in  this  letter,  Tennyson  calls  Well- 
ington, 

"  Our  greatest  yet  with  least  pretense, 
Great  in  council  and  great  in  war, 
Foremost  captain   of   his   time, 
Rich  in  saving  common-sense, 
And,  as  the  greatest  only  are, 
In  his  simplicity  sublime." 


Notes  and  Comment  131 

Though  he  died  on  September  14,  he  was  not  buried  until  Novem- 
ber 18. 

18,  17.  The  Cathedral:  St.  Paul's.  Here  lie  also  Nelson, 
J.  M.  W.  Turner,  Benjamin  West,  Lord  Collingwood,  and 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds.  The  building  was  completed  in  1710. 
In  general  impressiveness  St.  Paul's  ranks  next  to  St.  Peter's 
in  Rome. 

18,  23-24.  Marquis    of    Anglesey.      Henry    William    Paget 
(1768-1854),  first  Marquis  of  Anglesey,  commanded  the  British 
cavalry  at  Waterloo. 

19,  i.  Sir   Charles   Napier.     Charles  James   Napier    (1782- 
1853)  fought  in  Wellington's  Peninsular  campaigns,  but  was  not 
present  at  the  battle  of  Waterloo.     He  completed  the  conquest 
of    Scinde,    a    province    of    western    India,    by    the    victory    of 
Hyderabad,  March  24,  1843. 

19,  13.  Tennyson's  ode.    The  Ode  on  the  Death  of  the  Duke 
of  Wellington  was   published   as   a   pamphlet  of   sixteen   pages 
on  November  18,  1852,  the  day  of  the  Duke's  funeral.     It  was 
revised  by  Tennyson   in   1853,   and   again   in   1855.     The  poem 
has  grown  steadily  in  public  favor  since  1855. 

20,  7.  Esau.       See    Genesis  xx<v,  29-34..      Huxley's   writings 
abound  in  biblical  allusions.     See  Introduction  xvii-xviii. 

20,  32.  Holmwood:  the  home  of  W.  M.  Fanning  in  Sydney, 
Australia,  where  Huxley  met  Miss  Heathorn,  Mrs.   Tanning's 
sister. 

21,  8.  Charles  Darwin.    Charles  Robert  Darwin  (1809-1882), 
the  most  famous  of  English  naturalists,  was  the  founder  of  the 
biological    theory    of    evolution.      His    greatest    work,    On    the 
Origin  of  Species  by  Means  of  Natural  Selection,  or  the  Preser- 
vation  of  Favored  Races  in   the  Struggle  for  Life,   was   pub- 
lished in   1859.     The  book  marked  a  turning-point  in  Huxley's 
life  as  well  as  in  the  history  of  biological  science.    See  Introduc- 
tion xiii,  and  note  on  line  7,  page  15.     As  long  as  Darwin  lived 
he  and  Huxley  were  devoted  friends   and   regular  correspond- 
ents. 

21,  13.  Von  Bar's  essays.  Karl  Ernst  von  Bar  (1792-1876) 
was  a  celebrated  Russian  naturalist,  noted  especially  for  his 
researches  in  embryology.  Huxley  ranked  him  with  Darwin, 
Buffon,  and  Lamarck.  Cuvier  he  placed  "  in  a  somewhat  lower 
rank." 

21,  20.  Chapter  IX.     The  chapter  headings  in  The  Origin 


132  Notes  and  Comment 

of  Species,  to  which  Huxley  refers,  are  as  follows:  I.  Varia- 
tion under  Domestication,  II.  Variation  under  Nature,  III.  The 
Struggle  for  Existence,  IV.  Operation  of  Natural  Selection, 
IX.  The  Imperfection  of  the  Geological  Record,  X.  The 
Geological  Succession  of  Organic  Beings,  XI-XII.  Geographical 
Distribution,  XIII.  Classification,  Morphology,  Embryology,  and 
Rudimentary  Organs. 

21,  23.  Caveat.  Liberally,  "  let  him  beware."  The  mean- 
ing here  is  a  note  of  'warning  or  caution. 

21,  27.  Onus  probandi:  "the  burden  of  proof." 

22,  3.  Natura  non   facit  saltum:  "Nature  never  makes  a 
leap." 

22,  lo-n.  Abuse  and  misrepresentation.  Huxley  had  to 
bear  more  of  this  than  Darwin.  At  the  famous  Oxford  Meeting 
of  1860,  Bishop  Samuel  Wilberforce  turned  to  Huxley  and  asked, 
"  Is  it  through  your  grandfather  or  your  grandmother  that  you 
claim  descent  from  a  monkey?"  Huxley's  retort  (as  reported 
by  the  historian,  John  Richard  Green)  was,  "  If  there  were  an 
ancestor  whom  I  should  feel  shame  in  recalling  it  would  rather 
be  a  man — a  man  of  restless  and  versatile  intellect — who,  not 
content  with  an  equivocal  success  in  his  own  sphere  of  activity, 
plunges  into  scientific  questions  with  which  he  has  no  real  ac- 
quaintance, only  to  obscure  them  by  an  aimless  rhetoric,  and 
distract  the  attention  of  his  hearers  from  the  real  point  at  issue 
by  eloquent  digressions  and  skilled  appeals  to  religious  preju- 
dice." 

22,  22.  "  I  think  the  more."  This  is  the  modern  form  of 
an  old  proverb  found  in  John  Ray's  Compleat  Collection  of 
English  Proverbs  (1742):  "Though  he  says  nothing,  he  pays 
it  with  thinking,  like  the  Welshman's  jackdaw."  In  his  reply  to 
this  letter  (November  25,  1859)  Darwin  says:  "I  should  have 
been  more  than  contented  with  one  quarter  of  what  you  have 
written." 

22,  24.  John  Tyndall.    See  note  on  line  19,  page  13. 

22,  26.  Messina:  a  seaport  of  Sicily,  ranking  next  in  com- 
mercial importance  to  Palermo. 

22,  28.  Bence  Jones:  Huxley's  physician. 

22,  30.  Ray  Lankester:  Edwin  Ray  Lankester,  professor  of 
comparative  anatomy  at  Oxford  since  1890  and  one  of  the 
editors  of  The  Scientific  Memoirs  of  Huxley.  See  Descriptive 
Bibliography,  xxvii. 


Notes  and  Comment  133 

22,  31.  Dohrn  himself:   a  German  scientist,  founder  of  the 
Marine  Biological   Station  at  Naples.     See  Introduction  xi. 

23,  30.  Atrio  del  Cavallo:  a  large  level  tract  of  land  sepa- 
rating Vesuvius  from  Mt.  Somma. 

24,  2.  6lie    de    Beaumont    (1798-1874):    a    celebrated    pro- 
fessor of  geology  at  the  College  de  France. 

24,  4-5.  "Laves  mousseuses":  lavas  permeated  with  air- 
bubbles,  frothy,  vain,  aspiring  lavas.  In  his  article  On  the 
Reception  of  the  Origin  of  Species  (Life  and  Letters  of  Charles 
Darivin,  by  his  son,  Francis  Darwin,  in  3  volumes,  3d  edition, 
1887,  vol.  II,  p.  187)  Huxley  says:  "In  France  the  influence 
of  Elie  de  Beaumont  and  of  Flourens, — the  former  of  whom  is 
said  to  have  'damned  himself  to  everlasting  fame'  by  inventing 
the  nickname  of  la  science  moussante  for  Evolutionism  .  .  . 
produced  for  a  long  time  the  effect  of  a  conspiracy  of  silence." 
Huxley  is  repaying  Elie  de  Beaumont  in  his  own  coin. 

24,  13.  Louis  Pasteur  (1822-1895) :  a  famous  French  chemist 
and   world   benefactor,   best  known   for  his   researches   in   bac- 
teria, beer,   silkworms,   and   hydrophobia.     The   Institute  which 
Pasteur   established   for   the   treatment  of   those   suffering   from 
the  bites  of  rabid  animals  was  founded  in  Paris,  November  14, 
1868.    Since  then  similar  institutes  have  been  established  through- 
out the  world,   and  the  death-rate  from  hydrophobia  has  been 
reduced  to  less  than  one  per  cent. 

25,  25.  The  fanatics  of  laissez  faire:  those  who  advocate 
the  let-alone  policy. 

25,  29.  Prefer  that  men  should   suffer  than  rabbits  or 
dogs.     Huxley  himself  did  not  practise  vivisection,  though  he 
considered  it  justifiable.     See  Life  and  Letters,  I,  466.    It  will  be 
noticed   that   Huxley's   English   is   here   defective,   rather   being 
necessary  after  prefer  or  suffer. 

26,  6.  Hodeslea.      Huxley    moved    into    his    new    house    in 
December,   1890.     The  origin  of  the  name  is  given  by  him  in 
a   letter  of  October   15,   1890:  "One   is  obliged  to  have   names 
for  houses  here.     Mine  will  be  '  Hodeslea,'  which  is  as  near  as 
I   can   go   to    '  Hodesleia,'    the    poetical    original    shape    of   my 
very  ugly  name." 

26,  7.  Alfred  Tennyson  (1809-1892).  Huxley  and  Tenny- 
son met  rarely  but  each  admired  the  other.  After  a  visit  from 
Huxley  in  November,  1871,  Tennyson  wrote:  "Mr.  Huxley  was 
charming.  We  had  much  talk.  He  was  chivalrous,  wide, 


134  Notes  and  Comment 

and  earnest,  so  that  one  could  not  but  enjoy  talking  with  him. 
There  was  a  discussion  on  George  Eliot's  humility.  Huxley 
thought  her  a  humble  woman,  despite  a  dogmatic  manner  of 
assertion  that  had  come  upon  her  latterly  in  her  writings." 
Of  Tennyson's  conversation  Huxley  said:  "Doric  beauty  is  its 
characteristic — perfect  simplicity,  without  any  ornament  or  any- 
thing artificial."  He  spoke  also  of  "  the  insight  into  scientific 
method  "  shown  in  Tennyson's  In  Memoriam,  and  pronounced  it 
"  equal  to  that  of  the  greatest  experts." 

26,  15-16.  Between  the  darkness  before  and  .  .  .  after: 
between  birth  and  death. 

26,  19.  Lucretius  (97-55  B.C.).  Nothing  definite  is  known 
of  the  life  of  Lucretius.  His  great  work  On  the  Nature  of 
Things  (De  Rerum  Natura)  consists  of  six  books,  the  philosophy 
of  which  is  that  all  forms  of  life  are  due  to  the  chance  com- 
bination of  an  infinite  number  of  atoms  moving  in  an  infinite 
void.  His  descriptions  are  marked  by  wonderful  accuracy 
and  beauty.  Lowell,  in  his  Essay  on  Chaucer,  calls  the  begin- 
ning of  Lucretius's  poem  "  the  one  sunburst  of  purely  poetic 
inspiration  which  the  Latin  language  can  show." 

ON  THE  ADVISABLENESS  OF  IMPROVING  NATURAL  KNOWLEDGE 
(See  Introduction  xxi-xxii) 

28,  6.  The  very  spot:  St.  Martin's  Hall,  in  Long  Acre 
Street,  near  Drury  Lane,  London.  Defoe  says  that  the  first 
victims  were  two  Frenchmen,  who  "  died  of  the  plague  in  Long 
Acre,  or  rather  at  the  upper  end  of  Drury  Lane." 

28,  13-14.  The  History  of  the  Plague  Year.    Daniel  Defoe 
(i66i?-i73i)    is  best  known  as  the  author  of  Robinson   Crusoe 
(1719),   but   his  Journal   of  the  Plague    Year    (1722) — entitled 
History  of  the  Plague  in  the  second  edition — is  equally  realistic 
and  minute  in  its  details. 

29,  16-17.  Of  the   Republicans,  or  of  the   Papists.     The 
Republicans,    the    party    of    Cromwell    and    Milton,    wished    to 
abolish  monarchy.     The  Papists  were  thought  to  be  plotting  for 
the  re-establishment  of  the  Catholic  faith. 

30,  2.  The  Rochesters  and  Sedleys:  John  Wilmot   (1647- 
1680),   the   second   Earl   of   Rochester,    and   Sir   Charles   Sedley 
(1639-1701),  noted  wits  and  dramatists  in  the  reign  of  Charles 
II. 


Notes  and  Comment  135 

30,  6.  Laud,  or  ...  Milton.  William  Laud  (1573-1645), 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury  and  supporter  of  Charles  I,  attempted 
to  suppress  the  spread  of  Puritanism.  He  was  impeached  by 
the  Long  Parliament  and  beheaded.  John  Milton  (1608-1674), 
the  author  of  Paradise  Lost  and  Paradise  Regained,  was  the 
Latin  Secretary  to  Cromwell  and  the  resolute  defender  of 
Puritanism. 

30,  28.  Copernican  hypothesis.  Copernicus  (1473-1543) 
proved  that  the  earth  revolves  around  the  sun,  not  (as  the  old 
Ptolemaic  theory  was)  the  sun  around  the  earth. 

30,  32.  Selenography  of  the  moon.     The  last  three  words 
are    useless.      Selenography    means    the    scientific    study    of    the 
moon. 

31,  3.  Torricellian     experiment.       Evangelista     Torricelli 
(1608-1647),  a  celebrated  Italian  physicist  and  friend  of  Galileo, 
discovered   the   principle   of   the   modern   barometer. 

31,  10.  Galileo  .  .  .  and  Sir  Francis  Bacon.  Galileo 
Galilei  (1564-1642),  a  noted  Italian  astronomer,  constructed  a 
thermometer  in  1597  and  a  telescope  in  1609.  In  1610  he 
discovered  Jupiter's  satellites  and  the  spots  on  the  sun.  His  doc- 
trines were  condemned  by  the  Pope  and  he  was  compelled  to 
abjure  the  Copernican  theory.  Lord  Bacon  (1561-1626),  the 
celebrated  English  essayist,  scientist,  and  philosopher,  made 
no  important  discoveries,  but  he  reformed  the  method  of  scien- 
tific investigation.  He  is,  therefore,  one  of  the  founders  of 
modern  science  or  the  "  New  Philosophy." 

31,  14.  Dr.  Wallis:  John  Wallis  (1616-1703),  an  English 
grammarian,  mathematician,  and  theologian. 

31,  17.  Dr.  Wilkins:  John  Wilkins  (1614-1672),  Bishop  of 
Chester,  advocate  of  the  Copernican  theory,  and  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  Royal  Society. 

31,  22.  Charles  the  Second:  King  of  England  from  1660  to 
1685.  The  following  stanza,  to  which  Huxley  makes  indirect 
reference,  is  said  to  have  been  written  by  the  Earl  of  Rochester 
(see  note  on  line  2,  page  30)  on  the  door  of  Charles  II's 
bedchamber: 

"  Here  lies  our  sovereign  lord  the  king, 

Whose  word  no  man   relies  on; 
He  never  says  a  foolish  thing 
Nor  never  does  a  wise  one." 

31,  27.  Duke   of   Ormond:   James   Butler    (1610-1688),   the 


136  Notes  and  Comment 

first  Duke  of  Ormond,  a  devoted  adherent  of  Charles  II,  whom 
he  accompanied  into  exile. 

31,  28-29.  Chelsea  College.     In  1664  the  Royal  Society  peti- 
tioned   Charles   II    "  to   grant    Chelsea    College    and   the    lands 
belonging  to  it  to  the  Royal  Society."     This  was  done  but  the 
college  was  so  out  of  repair  that  the  Royal  Society  sold  it  in 
1682.     It  was  situated  about  three  miles  southwest  of  St.  Paul's 
Cathedral  on  the  Thames  but  is  no   longer  in  existence.     The 
Society  now  meets   in   Burlington   House,   Piccadilly. 

32,  8.  Newton.    Sir  Isaac  Newton  (1642-1727)  was  probably 
the  greatest  mathematician  that  ever   lived.     His  most  famous 
work,     The    Mathematical    Principles    of    Natural    Philosophy 
(Philosophies    Naturalis    Principia    Mathematica),    the    founda- 
tion  of   modern    astronomy,    mechanics,    and    mathematics,    was 
accepted   by   the   Royal   Society   in    1686   and   published   in   the 
summer  of  the  following  year. 

32,  10.  Philosophical  Transactions:  one  of  the  regular  pub- 
lications of  the  Royal  Society,  the  other  being  The  Proceedings  of 
the  Royal  Society.  The  first  dates  from  1665,  the  second  from 
1800. 

32,  28.  Vesalius  and  .  .  .  Harvey.  Andreas  Vesalius 
(1514-1564)  was  a  noted  Belgian  anatomist,  his  Seven  Books  on 
the  Human  Body  being  epoch-making  for  his  century.  William 
Harvey  (1578-1657)  was  a  famous  English  physiologist,  in 
whose  Essay  on  the  Motion  of  the  Heart  and  the  Blood  (1628) 
the  circulation  of  the  blood  was  first  demonstrated.  His  last 
publication  was  Essays  on  Birth  (Exercitationes  de  Generatione, 
1651). 

32,  29.  Grain  of  mustard  seed.      See  Mattheiu  xiii,  31-32,  and 
Mark  iv,  31-32. 

33,  5.  Schoolmen:  philosophers  of  the  Middle  Ages,  many  of 
whose  speculations  were  useless  and  absurd. 

33,  ii.  "Writ  in  water."  The  epitaph  on  Keats's  tomb- 
stone in  Rome,  composed  by  himself,  is:  "Here  lies  one  whose 
name  was  writ  in  water." 

33,  13.  First  President:  Lord  Brouncker,  mentioned  below. 
He  was  the  first  to  hold  office  after  the  formal  incorporation 
of  the  Royal  Society,  July  15,  1662. 

33,  31.  Revenant:  French  for  ghost,  returning  spirit. 

34,  10-11.  Mr.  Hooke:  Robert  Hooke   (1635-1703),  an  Eng- 
lish mathematician. 


Notes  and  Comment  137 

34,  28.  A  Boyle,  an  Evelyn,  and  a  Milton.  Robert  Boyle 
(1627-1691),  an  English  chemist,  is  best  known  as  the  dis- 
coverer of  Boyle's  law  of  the  elasticity  of  air  and  as  the  founder 
of  Boyle's  Lectures  for  the  Defense  of  Christianity.  John 
Evelyn  (1620-1706)  was  a  secretary  of  the  Royal  Society,  but 
is  remembered  chiefly  by  his  letters  and  diary.  For  Milton,  see 
note  on  line  6,  page  30. 

34,  31.  Restoration:    the    restoration    of    Charles    II    to    the 
English  throne  in  1660,  after  the  Commonwealth  of  Cromwell. 

35,  3.  Only.     The   more    logical    position    would    be    before 
among. 

35,  4-5.  Unswept  and  ungarnished.     See  Luke  xi,  25. 

35,  7-8.  Note  the  studied  repetition  and  parallelism  in  these 
two  lines.  See  also  lines  1-8  on  page  46. 

37,  n.  Blind  leaders  of  the  blind.    See  Matthew  xv,  14.. 

37,  25.  Aladdin's  lamps:  the  source  of  illimitable  power. 
See  Aladdin  or  the  Wonderjul  Lamp  in  the  Arabian  Nights' 
Entertainments. 

37,  26-27.  Thank  God  they  are  better.     See  Luke  xviii,  n. 

39,  10.  "When   in   heaven   the    stars":   from   Tennyson's 
Specimen  of  a  Translation  of  the  Iliad  in  Blank  Verse   (Iliad, 
VIII,  542-561).     See  note  on  line  7,  page  26. 

40,  30.  "  Increasing   God's  honor."     In    The  Advancement 
of  Learning  Bacon  says  that  knowledge  is  to  be  pursued  "  For 
the  glory  of  the  Creator  and  the  relief  of  man's  estate." 

42,  2-3.  The  discovery  of  oxygen:  by  Joseph  Priestley 
(1733-1804)  in  1774. 

42,  12.  Count  Rumford.     Benjamin  Thompson   (1753-1814), 
Count   Rumford,   was   an   American   scientist   and   political   ad- 
venturer who  spent  most  of  his  active  life  in  England  and  Ger- 
many.    He  was  a  member  of  the  Royal  Society  and  one  of  the 
founders  of  the  Royal  Institution   (see  note  on  lines  9-10,  page 
14).     He   left  to   Harvard   University  funds   for   the  establish- 
ment of  the  Rumford  Professorship. 

.  43.  3!-32.  By  worship  "  for  the  most  part  of  the  silent 
sort."  The  thought,  if  not  the  form,  is  from  Carlyle,  who  in  his 
Heroes  and  Hero-Worship  constantly  emphasizes  the  duty  of 
silence  in  worship  and  work. 

43,  32.  At  the  altar  of  the  Unknown.    See  Acts  xvii,  23. 
45,  11-12.  Skepticism  is  the  highest  of  duties.    This  is  not 

an  attack  on  religion.     "  The  antagonism  between  science  and 


138  Notes  and  Comment 

religion  appears  to  me,"  said  Huxley,  "  to  be  purely  factitious, 
fabricated  on  the  one  hand  by  short-sighted  religious  people; 
and  on  the  other  by  equally  short-sighted  scientific  people."  See 
also  the  note  on  line  10,  page  15.  In  another  passage  he  says: 
"  When  I  say  that  Descartes  consecrated  doubt,  you  must  re- 
member that  it  was  that  sort  of  doubt  which  Goethe  has  called 
'  the  active  skepticism,  whose  whole  aim  is  to  conquer  itself  ' ; 
and  not  that  other  sort  which  is  born  of  flippancy  and  ignorance, 
and  whose  aim  is  only  to  perpetuate  itself,  as  an  excuse  for 
idleness  and  indifference." 

A  LIBERAL  EDUCATION:  AND  WHERE  TO  FIND  IT 
(See   Introduction  xxii-xxiii) 

48,  5.  Ichabod.    See  /  Samuel  iv,  21. 

48,  10.  The  people  perish  for  lack  of  knowledge.     Hosea 
i<u,  6:  "  My  people  are  destroyed  for  lack  of  knowledge." 

49,  22.  Our  public  schools.    These  are  not  to  be  confounded 
with  our  American  public  schools.     Huxley  had  in  mind  such 
schools  as  Rugby  and  Eton. 

49,  29.  Senior  wranglership,  or  a  double-first.  These  are 
English  academic  terms,  the  first  meaning  the  highest  honors 
in  mathematics  at  Cambridge  University,  the  second  the  high- 
est honors  in  mathematics  and  the  classical  languages  at  Ox- 
ford University. 

51,  i.  Raveled  skein.  To  ravel  is  one  of  the  few  verbs  in 
English  that  may  mean  two  contradictory  things:  to  tangle  or 
to  untangle.  Huxley  uses  it  in  the  first  sense. 

51,  18.  Gambit:  an  opening  play  by  which  a  pawn  is  sacri- 
ficed to  gain  a  better  position. 

52,  10.  Retzsch:    Friedrich    August    Moritz    Retzsch    (1779- 
1857),   a  German  etcher  and  painter. 

53,  29.  Test-Acts.     The  English  Test-Act  of  1673,  repealed 
in    1828,    forbade    any   one   to   hold    public   office   who    did   not 
swear  loyalty  to  the  Church  of  England. 

53>  33-  The  "  Poll  ":  students  who  pass  (get  through)  but 
take  no  honors.  The  term  is  in  vogue  at  Cambridge  University 
and  is  derived  from  the  Greek  ol  Tro\\ol,  "  the  many,"  "  the 
mass." 

54,  i.  Plucked:  pitched,  "flunked,"  dropped  from  the  roll. 
56,  2.  Law  of  the  inverse  squares.    According  to  this  law 


Notes  and  Comment  139 

the  attraction  of  two  bodies  varies  inversely  as  the  square  of 
the   distance. 

56,  7.  The  hundred:  a  division  of  the  county,  not  very  dif- 
ferent from  our  township. 

56,  22.  Falstaff  s  bill.    See  /  Henry  IV,  II,  iv,  550. 

57,  20-21.  "Circumbendibus":  a  humorous  formation  from 
circum  -f-  bend  with  the  ending  of  a  Latin  ablative  plural  and 
meaning  circumlocution.     The  word  seems  to  have  been  coined 
by   Dryden   in    1681.     As   here   used   "  a   thief   with   a   circum- 
bendibus "  is  equivalent  to  "  another  name  for  thief." 

60,  8.  Euclid.  The  Elements  of  Geometry  by  Euclid  (about 
300  B.C.)  is  still  used  as  a  text-book  and  the  name  of  Euclid 
has  become  a  synonym  for  geometry. 

60,  31-32.  Chaucer,  Shakespeare  .    .    .   Schiller.     Geoffrey 
Chaucer    (1340-1400),  the  first  great  English  poet  and  the  au- 
thor  of   many   books,   is   best   known   through    The    Canterbury 
Tales,  the   supreme   masterpiece   of   Middle   English.     William 
Shakespeare    (1564-1616)    needs   no  comment.     For   Milton,   see 
note    on    line    6,    page    30.      Francois    Marie    Arouet    Voltaire 
(1694-1778),    the    last    being    an    assumed    name    of    unknown 
origin,   was   the   most   versatile,   prolific,   and   influential   writer 
that  France  has  produced,  the  best  edition  of  his  works  num- 
bering   seventy-two    volumes.      Johann    Wolfgang    von    Goethe 
(1749-1832)     and    Johann     Christoph    Friedrich     von     Schiller 
(1759-1805)    are  the  two  greatest  names  in  German  literature, 
Goethe   being    probably    the    most   fruitful    thinker    of    modern 
times. 

61,  4.  The  few  righteous.     See  Genesis  xviii,  23-32. 

62,  7-8.  Tasmania    .    .    .    New  South   Wales.     The  first, 
discovered  by  Tasman  in  1642,  is  an  island  and  British  colony 
in   Australasia.     It   was   a   dependency   of   New    South   Wales 
until    1825.     The   second,    named   from    a   fancied    resemblance 
to    the    northern    shores   of   the    Bristol    Channel,    is    a    British 
colony   in   Australia.      Huxley   spent    several   years   in    Sydney, 
the   capital    of   this   colony. 

62,  17.  Croesus:  a  Lydian  king  who  lived  about  550  B.C., 
and  whose  name  has  become  a  synonym  for  boundless  wealth. 

64,  3.  A  Niebuhr,  a  Gibbon,  or  a  Grote?  Paleontology  is 
a  branch  of  biology,  both  dealing  constructively  with  the  former 
life  of  the  globe.  In  each  of  these  great  paleontologists,  there- 
fore, Huxley  hails  a  kindred  spirit.  Barthold  Georg  Niebuhr 


140  Notes  and  Comment 

(1776-1831),  a  German  historian,  reconstructed  our  ideas  of 
ancient  history  in  his  History  of  Rome.  Edward  Gibbon 
(1737-1794),  the  English  historian,  did  an  equal  service  for 
later  Roman  history  in  his  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  George  Grote  (1794-1871),  also  an  Englishman, 
wrote  an  authoritative  History  of  Greece.  Huxley  com- 
mended the  example  of  Grote  and  Faraday  in  declining  all 
titular  honors  offered  them  by  the  government. 

65,  13-14.  Cicero,  or  Horace.  Marcus  Tullius  Cicero  (106- 
43  B.C.),  the  Roman  critic,  orator,  and  philosopher,  is  here 
cited  as  the  exemplar  of  the  purest  Latin  prose,  and  Quintus 
Horatius  Flaccus  (65-8  B.C.)  as  the  poet  of  the  purest  lyric 
style  in  Roman  literature. 

65,  14.  Sixth  form:  the  senior  class  in  an  English  public 
school. 

65,  15.  Terence.  Publius  Terentius  Afer  (185-159  B.C.)  was 
the  master  of  Latin  comedy. 

65,  30.  Parnassus:  classical  studies.     Parnassus,  a  mountain 
ridge  in  Greece,  was  the  fabled  abode  of  the  Muses. 

66,  22.  These  be  your  gods.    See  Exodus  xxxii,  4. 

66,  27.  This  is  the  stone  he  offers.     See  Matthew  <vii,  g. 

66,  3i.This  is  an  awful  subject:  perhaps  a  reminiscence  of 
Burke's    "Surely   it    is    an    awful    subject"    (beginning    of    the 
second  paragraph  of  his  speech  on  Conciliation  ivith  America. 

67,  3.  Rector   of  Lincoln   College:   Mark   Pattison    (1813- 
1884),  referred  to  below. 

69,  17-19.  Grote  .    .    .  Mill  .   .    .  Faraday  .    .    .  Robert 
Brown   .    .    .   Lyell   .    .    .   Darwin.     For  Grote,  see  note  on 
line   3,   page   64.     John   Stuart   Mill    (1806-1873),   a   celebrated 
English    logician    and    political    economist.      Michael    Faraday 
(1791-1867),  an  English  chemist,  famous  for  his  discoveries  in 
electricity    and    magnetism.      Robert    Brown     (1773-1858),    an 
English   botanist.      Sir   Charles   Lyell    (1797-1875),   an    English 
geologist,   author  of  Principles  of   Geology,  Elements  of   Geol- 
ogy, and  The  Antiquity  of  Man.     For  Darwin,  see  note  on  line 
8,  page  21. 

70,  34.  La  carriere  ouverte  aux  talents.     "  For  I  take  it 
that  the  real   essence  of  democracy  was  fairly  enough  defined 
by  the  First  Napoleon  when  he  said  that  the   French  Revolu- 
tion   meant    '  la    carriere    ouverte    aux   talents ' — a    clear    path- 
way for  merit  of  whatever  kind"    (Lowell's  Democracy). 


Notes  and  Comment  141 


71,  x.  Bursch:  a  German  student. 

72,  21.  "  Erdkunde  ":  "  earth-knowledge." 


ON  A  PIECE  OF  CHALK 
(See  Introduction,  pp.  xxiii-xxiv) 

[A  map  should  be  used  in  the  study  of  this  lecture.] 

74,  17.  Albion:  literally  "white  land,"  so  called  from  the 
chalk  cliffs  of  the  southern  coast. 

74,  26.  Weald.  The  Weald  (pronounced  wield  and  mean- 
ing originally  the  wilds)  is  an  oval-shaped  area  bounded  by  a 
line  that  begins  near  the  Straits  of  Dover  and  passes  through 
the  counties  of  Kent,  Surrey,  Hants,  and  Sussex,  meeting  the 
sea  again  at  Beachy  Head. 

76,  29-30.  Though  ignorant  of  all  other  history.     Could 
not   this   clause   be   better   placed?     Try   it   after   that  or    man 
or  know  in  line  27. 

77,  31-32.  Stalagmites    and    stalactites.      Both    are    cone- 
like,  but  the  former  rise  from  the  floor  of  the  cavern  while  the 
latter  hang  from  the  roof. 

78,  13.  Laminated:  having   lamina,  that   is,   thin   plates   or 
scales. 

80,  4.  Globigerina.     The  second  g  is  pronounced  as  j  and 
the  accent  is  on  the  next  to  the  last  syllable,  the  i  having  the 
usual   English   long  sound. 

81,  7.  Lieut.  Brooke:  John  Mercer  Brooke   (1826-1906),  the 
inventor    also    of    the   Brooke    gun. 

81,  16.  Ehrenberg:  Christian  Gottfried  Ehrenberg  (1795- 
1876),  a  German  naturalist,  noted  for  his  study  of  minute 
•water-plants  and  animals. 

81,  17.  Bailey:  Jacob  Whitman  Bailey  (1811-1857),  a  West 
Point  graduate  and  professor. 

81,  25.  Telegraph-cable.  Cyrus  W.  Field  (1819-1892),  of 
New  York,  stretched  a  cable  from  the  American  coast  to  New- 
foundland in  1856.  Ten  years  later  he  continued  it  to  England. 

81,  32.  Captain  Dayman:  one  of  the  lieutenants  of  the 
Rattlesnake.  See  Introduction  ix. 

85,  30.  Star-fish.  Notice  that  in  this  note  Huxley  uses  the 
two  plurals,  star-fish  and  star-fishes  (86,  28),  interchangeably. 


142  Notes  and  Comment 

85,  33.  Dr.  Wallich:   George  Charles  Wallich   (1815-1899), 
an  English   authority   in  marine  biology. 

86,  ii-i2.  "  Coccoliths  ":  berry-shaped  stones  (Kixxos,  a  berry, 
-}-  Xf0os,  a  stone). 

86,  16.  "  Coccospheres  ":  a  round  mass  of  coccoliths  (KtiKKot, 
a  berry,  +  ff<j>aipa,  a  sphere). 

86,  19.  Mr.  Sorby:  Henry  Clifton  Sorby  (1826-  ),  a 
fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  and  later  president  of  Frith  Col- 
lege, Sheffield. 

88,  10.  Polyzoa:  many  animals  (iroXtfs,  many,  £yov,  animal). 
The  singular  is  polyzoon,  sometimes  polyzoum  (Latin). 

88,  n.  Brachiopoda:  arm-footed (ftpaxlw,  arm,  -\-  7r6vs(iro8-) , 
foot). 

88,  12.  Nautilus:  a  sailor  (murfXcj,  poetic  form  for  WI/TIJJ, 
sailor).  See  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes's  popular  poem,  The 
Chambered  Nautilus. 

go,  8.  Lyell.     See  note  on  lines  17-19,  page  69. 

93,  i.  Hoxne  .    .    .  Amiens.     The  first  is  in  Suffolk,  England, 
the   second   in   northern    France.     As   early   as   1800   rude   flint 
instruments,   belonging   to   prehistoric   man,   were   unearthed   in 
both  places. 

94,  7.  Rev.  Mr.  Gunn:  Robert  Campbell  Gunn   (1808-1881), 
a  noted  English  naturalist.     He  emigrated  to  Tasmania  at  the 
age  of  twenty-one   and  helped  to  found  the  Royal   Society  of 
Tasmania. 

94,  15.  Writing  upon  the  wall.     See  Daniel  <v,  5. 

94,  22.  "  The  whirligig  of  time."  See  Twelfth  Night,  V,  i, 

379- 

95,  28.  "  The   river   of   Babylon."     This   phrase    does   not 
occur  in  the  Bible;   but  the  Euphrates,  on  which  Babylon  was 
situated,  is  called  "  the  great  river  "  in  Genesis  xv,  18. 

97,  14.  Australia.       The    zoology    of    Australia    and    Tas- 
mania  is   in   many   respects   different  from   that  of   any  other 
region. 

98,  5-6.  Pterodactyl  .  .  .  ichthyosaurus  .  .  .  plesiosaurus. 
The  first  means  -wing-fingered  (irrepbv,  wing,  -}-  SdKTiAos,  finger), 
the    second   fish-lizard    (faMs,  fish,  -\-   (raCpos,  lizard),    the   third 
near-lizard    (ir\r)fflos,    near,-)-  <raOpos,    lizard).      Note    that    the 
prefix   plesio-    in    scientific   terms    is   exactly    analogous   to    the 
prefix   near  in   such   humorous  compounds   as   near-beer,  near- 
poetry,  etc. 


Notes  and  Comment  143 

98,  23-24.  Foraminifera:  hole-bearing  organisms  (Latin 
foramen  (foramin-),  a  hole,  -f-  ferre,  to  bear). 

98,  28.  Lamp-shell.  These  all  belong  to  the  family  of  the 
terebratulida,  or  bored-through  organisms  (Latin  terebrare,  to 
bore). 

98,  32-33.  Diminished  head.      See  Milton's  Paradise  Lost, 

»v>  33-34: 

"  At  whose  sight  all  the  stars 
Hide   their   diminished   heads." 

99,  i.  Battle   of  Hastings.     In  this  battle,  fought  October 
14,   1066,  the  Normans  under  William  the  Conqueror  defeated 
the  Saxons  or  English  under  King  Harold. 

100,  23.  "  Older    tertiary."     With    the    coming   of    life    the 
geological    record    is    classified    into    four    divisions:    i.    The 
Primary  or  Palaeozoic    (ancient  life)    Period,  2.  The  Secondary 
or  Mesozoic  (middle  life)  Period,  3.  The  Tertiary  or  Cainozoic 
(recent    life)     Period,    4.    The    Quaternary    or    Post-Tertiary 

Period. 

102,  1-2.  "  Without  haste,  but  without  rest."     This  was 
one  of  Huxley's  favorite  quotations  from  Goethe.     See  Spriiche 
in   Reimen:   Zahme   Xenien,   II.     J.   S.   Blackie   translates   the 
complete  passage  as  follows: 

"Like  the  star 
That  shines  afar, 
Without    haste 
And  without  rest, 

Let  each  man  wheel  with  steady  sway 
Round  the  task  that  rules  the  day, 
And  do  his  best." 

ON  SCIENCE  AND  ART  IN  RELATION  TO  EDUCATION 
(See  Introduction,  p.  xxiv) 

103,  5.  In  the  Gospel.    See  Matthew  xxii,  2-10. 

104,  6.  "  Hansardization  ":  the  process  of  comparing  a  man's 
past  and  present  records.     Luke  Hansard    (1752-1828)    was  the 
official   printer  of  the   English   parliamentary  reports. 

105,  12.  To    particularly   emphasize.     Note    the    so-called 
"  split  infinitive."     There   are  cases  where  this   idiom  is  justi- 
fied by  the  demands  of  euphony  or  clearness,  but  this  hardly 
seems  one  of  them. 


144  Notes  and  Comment 

105,  28.  Cerberus:  the    three-headed    watch-dog    at    the    en- 
trance to  the  infernal  regions.     See  Swift's  reference  in  his  lines 
On   Poetry: 

"  To    Cerberus   they   give    a    sop, 
His  triple  barking  mouth  to  stop." 

106,  10-11.  Nothing  human  comes  amiss  to  it:  a  reference 
to  the  famous  saying  of  Terence:  "I   am   a  man,   and   I  con- 
sider  nothing   human   foreign    to   me"    ("Homo   sum;    humani 
nihil  a  me  alienum  puto"). 

107,  34.  Clifton:    Clifton    College,    in    Gloucestershire,    one 
mile   west   of   Bristol. 

109,  34.  Mr.  Freeman:  Edward  Augustus  Freeman  (1823- 
1892),  author  of  the  famous  History  of  the  Norman  Conquest. 

no,  15.  The  be-all  and  end-all:  the  sum  total.  See  Mac- 
beth I,  vii,  5. 

no,  19-20.  William  Harvey.     See  note  on  line  28,  page  32. 

112,  23.  The  rub.     See  Hamlet  III,  i,  65. 

113,  26.  Francis  Bacon.    See  note  on  line  10,  page  31.    The 
reference  is  probably  to   a   sentence  in  Bacon's  Latin  essay  on 
Promptitude:  "  He  who  errs  quickly  is  quick  in  correcting  the 
error"    ("  Qui   cito  errat,   cito   errorem  emendat"). 

116,  24.  Sebastian    Bach:    Johann    Sebastian    Bach    (1685- 
1750),  a  German  musician,  who  shares  with  Handel  the  honor 
of  being  the  Shakespeare  of  the  fugue. 

117,  20.  Shakespeare  .    .   .   Goethe.     See  note  on  lines  31- 
32,  page  60. 

117,  26.  Intellectual  content.  This  is  a  truth  of  prime 
importance  at  all  times  but  especially  now  when  literature  is 
popularly  regarded  as  merely  a  dainty  pastime.  David  Masson 
expresses  the  same  truth  as  follows:  "Every  artist  is  a  thinker, 
whether  he  knows  it  or  not;  and  ultimately  no  artist  will  be 
found  greater  as  an  artist  than  he  was  as  a  thinker." 

122,  4.  Chaucer  and  Shakespeare.  See  note  on  lines  31- 
32,  page  60. 

122,  4.  Milton.     See  note  on  line  6,  page  30. 

122,  5.  Hobbes  and  Bishop  Berkeley.  Thomas  Hobbes 
(1588-1679),  an  English  philosopher,  advocated  in  his  Levia- 
than the  doctrine  that  the  power  of  the  state  over  the  individual 
is  absolute.  George  Berkeley  (1685-1753),  an  Irishman  and 
Bishop  of  Cloyne,  believed  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  mat- 
ter but  that  everything  is  spirit.  Of  Berkeley's  doctrine  of 


Notes  and  Comment  145 

idealism  Huxley  wrote:  "It  is  that  idealism  which  declares 
the  ultimate  fact  of  all  knowledge  to  be  a  consciousness,  or  in 
other  words,  a  mental  phenomenon ;  and  therefore  affirms  the 
highest  of  all  certainties,  and  indeed  the  only  absolute  cer- 
tainty, to  be  the  existence  of  mind." 

123,  25.  Locke:  John  Locke    (1632-1704),  an  English  philos- 
opher and  author  of  an  Essay  Concerning  the  Human   Under- 
standing. 

124,  18.  Franciscus  Bacon.     See  note  on  line  10,  page  31. 
The  meaning  of  the  sentence  is  "Thus  thought  Francis  Bacon"; 
sic   cogitavi   means    "  thus   I    thought." 


QUESTIONS  AND  TOPICS  FOR  STUDY 

Before  taking  up  these  questions  let  us  read  some  of  the 
things  that  have  been  said  about  Huxley's  writings.  Do  not 
accept  blindly  the  opinions  of  others  but  compare  your  own 
impressions  with  theirs.  If  they  say  something  that  you  had  not 
thought  of,  do  not  accept  it  or  reject  it  until  you  have  tested 
it  by  a  more  careful  reading  of  Huxley  himself.  Above  all 
do  not  be  satisfied  with  mere  words  or  phrases.  Seek  for 
illustrations  in  Huxley's  writings  of  every  point  made  for  or 
against  him.  Mrs.  Huxley,  for  example,  edited  a  small  volume 
of  selections  from  her  husband's  writings  and  prefaced  it  with 
these  words :  "  Some  of  the  passages  were  picked  out  for 
their  philosophy,  some  for  their  moral  guidance,  some  for 
their  scientific  exposition  of  natural  facts,  or  for  their  insight 
into  social  questions;  others  for  their  charms  of  imagina- 
tion or  genial  humor,  and  many — not  the  least — for  their 
beauty  of  lucid  English  writing."  Can  you  illustrate  each 
of  these  points  by  sentences  or  paragraphs  from  the  selections 
that  you  have  read?  The  attempt  to  do  so  would  greatly  in- 
crease your  appreciation  of  the  distinctive  excellences  of  Hux- 
ley's writings. 

Huxley's  scientific  friend,  E.  Ray  Lankester,  wrote  of  him 
as  follows:  "In  Professor  Huxley's  work  .  .  .  we  never  miss 
his  fascinating  presence ;  now  he  is  gravely  shaking  his  head, 
now  compressing  the  lips  with  emphasis,  and,  from  time  to 
time,  with  a  quiet  twinkle  of  the  eye,  making  unexpected 
apologies,  or  protesting  that  he  is  of  a  modest  and  peace- 
loving  nature.  .  .  .  Everything  which  has  entered  the  au- 
thor's brain  by  eye  or  ear  .  .  .  comes  out  again  to  us  clarified, 
sifted,  arranged,  and  vivified  by  its  passage  through  the  logical 
machine  of  his  strong  individuality."  Can  you  find  passages 
that  help  you  to  visualize  Huxley  as  Lankester  has  visualized 
him? 

A  writer  in  a  leading  American  magazine  criticised  Huxley's 
146 


Questions  and  Topics  for  Study          147 

essays  as  follows:  "In  form  his  essays  are  often  rambling, 
sometimes  disconnected,  occasionally  prolix.  He  plunges  into 
the  midst  of  a  subject  and,  discovering  there  an  almost  limit- 
less number  of  things  which  are  apropos  of  the  last  thing  he 
said,  frequently  skips  about  hither  and  thither,  trusting  to  good 
luck  and  his  own  mother  wit  to  guide  him  safely  to  some 
suitable  conclusion."  From  what  you  have  read  of  Huxley  do 
you  consider  this  a  just  criticism? 

AUTOBIOGRAPHY   (pages  3-15) 

Autobiography  is  a  modern  form  of  literature.  A  study  of 
the  greatest  autobiographies  will  show  that  they  grew  out  of 
the  desire  not  so  much  to  perpetuate  the  names  of  the  writers 
as  to  be  helpful  to  others.  A  typical  example  is  Benjamin 
Franklin's  Autobiography.  Huxley's  Autobiography,  which 
was  written  to  take  the  place  of  a  merely  formal  sketch  of 
his  life  by  another,  is  the  shortest  autobiography  on  record 
and  is  not  as  intimate  a  revelation  as  most  autobiographies 
are. 

1.  How  many  paragraphs  are  devoted  to  merely  introductory 
matter?     How  many  to  the  conclusion? 

2.  Name  some   important  events  in   Huxley's  life  omitted  in 
the  Autobiography. 

3.  What   does   Huxley  say   are  the  two  objects  that  he  has 
"  had  more  or  less  definitely  in  view  "   (page  14)  ?     Enumerate 
some   of    his    achievements   under   each   of   these   heads.      (See 
Introduction  xiii-xix.) 

4.  Cite  examples  of  humor  in  the  Autobiography.     Of  exag- 
geration. 

5.  Explain  the  hope  expressed  in  the  last  sentence  of  the  last 
paragraph. 

LETTERS  (pages  16-27) 

Of  all  the  kinds  of  discourse  letters  are  the  freest  and  most 
informal.  They  should  not  leave  the  impression  that  they 
were  written  with  too  great  pains  or  with  too  minute  con- 
sideration of  words  or  sentences.  They  should  be  fresh, 
unstudied,  spontaneous.  They  should  suggest  a  conversa- 
tion rather  than  an  essay.  In  fact,  the  letter  is  a  sort  of  long- 


148          Questions  and  Topics  for  Study 

distance  conversation.  Letters  are  interesting  also  not  only 
because  they  contain  autobiographical  material  but  because  they 
frequently  throw  light  on  the  times  in  which  they  were 
written.  Huxley's  letters  serve  both  of  these  ends. 

To  Miss  Heathorn   (pages  16-18) 

1.  Express  in  your  own  language  how  Huxley  felt  about  the 
Royal    Medal. 

2.  How  was  it  the  "  turning-point "   of  his  life  ? 

To  Miss  Heathorn    (pages   18-19) 

1.  Does    Huxley    attempt    to    tell    what    happened    at    the 
funeral  or  only  what  he  saw  and  felt? 

2.  Had   he  been   writing   an   essay  instead   of   a   letter,  how 
would   he  have  treated   the  subject? 

3.  Read    Tennyson's    Ode    on    the    Death    of    the    Duke    of 
Wellington  and  pick  out  some  of  the  passages  that  you  think 
Huxley  marked. 

To  Miss  Heathorn  (pages  19-21) 

1.  What  "three  years"  does  Huxley  mean? 

2.  What   difference   between   man's    love    and   woman's    love 
does  Huxley  dwell   upon  in  this  letter? 

To   Charles  Darwin    (pages  21-22) 

1.  Why  is  1859  one  of  the  most  significant  dates  in  Huxley's 
life? 

2.  What  were  the  relations  between  Huxley  and  Darwin? 

To   John    Tyndall    (pages   22-24) 

1.  Which  of  the  first  two  paragraphs  gives  you  the  clearer 
picture  of  the  scenes  described? 

2.  Reproduce    the    picture    in    your    own    language. 

3.  Explain    the    reference    to   Elie    de    Beaumont. 


Questions  and  Topics  for  Study  149 

To  the  Lord  Mayor  of  London   (pages  24-26) 

1.  Is  this  a  real  letter,  or  is  it  the  outline  of  the  speech  that 
Huxley  would   have   delivered   if   he   could   have   attended   the 
meeting? 

2.  What  two   kinds  of   service  had  Pasteur   rendered? 

To   John    Tyndall    (page   26) 

1.  How    did    the    sunshine    suggest    Tennyson's    poems? 

2.  Can  you  name   any  poem  or  cite  any  passages  in  which 
Tennyson    shows    his    familiarity    with    science? 

To  a   Young  Man    (pages  26-27) 

1.  Write  the  letter  that  you  suppose  the  young  man  wrote. 

2.  What  sentence  in  Huxley's  letter  puts  drudgery  in  a  new 
light? 

3.  What   does   the   Scotch   proverb   mean? 

On     the    Advisableness     of    Improving    Natural    Knowledge 
(pages    28-46) 

The  selections  that  follow,  whether  called  lay  sermons,  ad- 
dresses, or  lectures,  are  really  essays  and  were  so  considered 
by  Huxley  when  he  included  them  in  his  Collected  Essays. 
There  are,  however,  two  kinds  of  essay, — the  chatty,  humor- 
ous, personal  essay  as  written  by  Addison,  Steele,  Lamb,  and 
Thackeray,  and  the  more  carefully  constructed  and  more  seri- 
ously expository  essay  as  written  by  Macaulay,  Carlyle, 
Arnold,  and  Lowell.  Huxley's  essays  belong  to  the  second 
class:  they  are  studied  attempts  to  expound  important  truths. 
It  will  be  found  that  each  essay  presents  some  central  thought 
or  thoughts.  Each  essay,  in  other  words,  has  unity.  It  will 
be  found  also  that  the  structure  of  each  essay  is  determined 
solely  by  the  desire  to  present  these  central  thoughts  as  clearly 
and  as  vividly  as  possible.  The  questions  that  follow,  there- 
fore, are  intended  to  help  you  to  appreciate,  (i)  the  thought- 
content  of  each  essay,  and  (2)  the  architecture  by  which  the 
thought-content  is  made  clear. 


150          Questions  and  Topics  for  Study 

1.  What    are    the    two    central    thoughts    in    this    essay    (see 
especially  pages  38  and  44)  ? 

2.  What  are  some  of  the  "  great  ideas "  that  you  have  ob- 
tained   from    science    (botany,    physiology,    physics,    or    chemis- 
try)? 

3.  How    does   Huxley   use   the   "  two   fearful    calamities "    to 
introduce   the  subject  of  this   essay? 

4.  Does  the  conclusion  (page  45,  line  27  to  close)  merely  sum 
up,  or  does  it  make  an  appeal,  or  does  it  do  both? 

A   Liberal  Education:   and.    Where   to   Find  It    (pages  47-73) 

1.  What  two  questions  does  Huxley  endeavor  to  answer  in 
this  essay   (see  especially  pages  51   and  55)  ? 

2.  Memorize  the  answer  to  the  first  question  as  given  in  the 
paragraph  on  pages  54-55. 

3.  Where    did    Huxley    think    a    liberal    education    could    be 
found  ? 

4.  If   you    do    not   play   chess,    see    if   you    cannot    substitute 
some  game  that  you  do  understand  in  place  of  the  metaphor 
employed  in  the  paragraph  on  pages   51-52. 

5.  What  is  the  subject  discussed  in  the  introductory  part  of 
this   essay    (see  end   of  page   50   and   beginning  of   page   51)  ? 
How    do    these    introductory    remarks    lead    up    to    the    essay 
proper  ? 

On  a  Piece  of  Chalk   (pages  74-102) 

1.  What  is  the  great  lesson  which,  'after  much  deliberation* 
(page  76),  Huxley  endeavors  to  teach  by  a  piece  of  chalk? 

2.  How  does  he  show   (i)   "that  we  have  as  strong  grounds 
for   believing   that   all   the   vast   area   of   dry   land,    at   present 
occupied    by    the   chalk,    was    once    at   the    bottom   of   the    sea, 
as  we  have  for   any  matter  of  history  whatever"    (pages   88- 
89);     (2)    "that    the    chalk    sea    existed    during    an    extremely 
long  period"    (page   92);    and    (3)    "that  the  earth,  from  the 
time  of  the  chalk  to  the  present  day,  has  been  the  theater  of  a 
series  of  changes   as  vast  in  their  amount,   as  they  were  slow 
in  their  progress"   (pages  95-96)? 

3.  What    is    the    purpose    of    the    introductory    part    of    this 
essay? 

4.  With  what  striking  comparison  does  Huxley  close  the  essay? 


Questions  and  Topics  for  Study          151 

On  Science  and  Art  in  Relation  to  Education   (pages  103-124) 

1.  What  are  the  four  "  points  which  must  be  attended  to  " 
(page    109)    in   the   teaching  of   science? 

2.  Into  what  two  groups  does  Huxley  classify  "  all  our  men- 
tal furniture"    (page   114)? 

3.  Why   do   music,    painting,    and    literature    belong   to   both 
groups  ? 

4.  What  kind  of  training  would  Huxley  give  if  he  "  could 
make   a   clean   sweep   of  everything   and   start   afresh "    (page 
120)  ? 

5.  What   defense   of   himself    does    Huxley   make    in   the    in- 
troductory part  of  this  essay    (to  page   107,   line   12)  ? 

6.  What  is  the  effect  of  the  concluding  short  paragraph? 


1Reaoin0s  for  Scboote 

WILBUR  L.  CROSS,  Yale  University,  General  Editor 

Addison:  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  Papers. 

Edited  by  NATHANIEL  E.  GRIFFIN,  Princeton  University. 

Arnold:  Sohrab  and  Rustum,  and  Other  Poems. 
Edited  by  WALTER  S.  HINCHMAN,  Groton  School. 

Browning:  Selections. 

Edited  by  CHARLES  W.  HODELL,  Goucher  College,  Baltimore. 
Bunyan:  Pilgrim's  Progress,  Part  I. 

Edited  by  JOHN  H.  GARDINER. 
Burke:  On  Conciliation. 

Edited  by  DANIEL  V.  THOMPSON,  Lawrenceville  School. 
Byron:  Prisoner  of  Chillon  and  Other  Poems. 

Edited  by  HARDIN  CRAIG,  University  of  Minnesota. 
Carlyle:  Essay  on  Burns. 

Edited  by  SOPHIE  C.  HART,  Wellesley  College. 

Defoe:  Robinson  Crusoe. 

Edited  by  WILBUR  L.  CROSS,  Yale  University. 

Dickens :  Tale  of  Two  Cities. 

Edited  by  E.  H.  KEMPER  McCOMB,  Manual  Training  High 
School,   Indianapolis,  Ind. 

Eliot:  Silas  Marner. 

Edited   by   ELLEN   E.   GARRIGUES,   De  Witt   Clinton   High 
School,  New  York  City. 

English  Lyrics  from  Dryden  to  Burns. 

Edited  by  MORRIS  W.  CROLL,  Princeton  University. 

Franklin :  Autobiography. 

Edited  by  FRANK  W.  PINE,  Gilman  Country  School,  Balti- 
more. 

Hughes:  Tom  Brown's  School  Days. 

Edited  by  W.  H.  LILLARD,  Phillips  Andover  Academy. 

Huxley:  Selections. 

Edited  by  CHARLES  ALPHONSO  SMITH,  University  of  Virginia. 

Irving:  Sketch  Book. 

Edited  by  ARTHUR  W.  LEONARD,  Phillips  Academy,  Andover, 
Mass. 

Macaulay:  Life  of  Johnson. 

Edited  by  CHESTER  N.  GREENOUCH,  Harvard  University. 

Macaulay:  Lord  Clive  and  Warren  Hastings. 

Edited    by    FREDERICK    E.    PIERCE,    Yale    University,    and 
SAMUEL  THURBER,  Jr.,  Technical  High  School,  Newton,  Mass. 


Bngltsb  1Rea5ing0  for  Scbools— Continued 

Milton:  L'Allegro,  II  Penseroso,  Comus,  and  Lycidas. 
Edited  by  MARTIN  W.  SAMPSON,  Cornell   University. 

Old  Testament   Narratives. 

Edited  by  GEORGE  H.  NETTLETON,  Yale  University. 

Scott:  Quentin  Durward. 
Edited  by  THOMAS  H.  BRIGGS. 

Scott:  Ivanhoe. 

Edited  by  ALFRED  A.  MAY,  High  School  of  Commerce,  New 
York  City. 

Scott:  Lady  of  the  Lake. 

Edited  by  ALFRED  M.  HITCHCOCK,  Public  High  School,  Hart- 
ford, Conn. 

Shakespeare:  Macbeth. 

Edited  by  FELIX  E.  SCHELLING,  University  of  Pennsylvania. 

Shakespeare:  Merchant  of  Venice. 

Edited  by  FREDERICK  E.  PIERCE,  Yale  University. 

Shakespeare:  Julius  Caesar. 

Edited  by  ASHLEY  H.  THORNDIKE,  Columbia  University. 

Shakespeare:  As  You  Like  It. 

Edited  by  JOHN  W.   CUNLIFFE,   Columbia   University,   and 
GEORGE  ROY  ELLIOTT,  University  of  Wisconsin. 

Stevenson:  Inland  Voyage  and  Travels  with  a  Donkey. 
Edited  by  EDWIN  MIMS,  Vanderbilt  University. 

Stevenson:  Treasure  Island. 

Edited  by  STUART  P.  SHERMAN,  University  of  Illinois. 

Tennyson:  Idylls  of  the  King. 

Edited  by  JOHN  ERSKINE,  Columbia  University. 

Thackeray:  English  Humorists. 

Edited  by  WILLIAM  LYON  PHELPS,  Yale  University. 

Washington:  Farewell  Address,  with  Webster:  First 
Bunker  Hill  Oration.  Edited  by  WILLIAM  E.  SIMONDS,  Knox 
College,  Galesburg,  111. 

Wordsworth:  Selections.  Also  from  Coleridge,  Shelley, 
and  Keats.  Edited  by  JAMES  W.  LINN,  University  of 
Chicago. 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY,  ^BWLISYHOERRK 


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